The Myth of Innocence
by Catalina Royce
Summary: [Complete] It's a crazy place for a sixteen year old. But when there are two people inside your head, and you've deserted your family for the chance to become someone, who do you cling to when times get rough?
1. Innocence

**Title:** The Myth of Innocence  
**Author:** Catalina Royce  
**Disclaimer:** These stories are based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
**Rating:** R

**

Innocence

**

Life had never been easy for her. The redhead twirled a flower around in her hand, watching as the yellow petals spun together in a colorful wheel. In fact, she mused as she frowned, using her magic to slowly turn the flower black, she hadn't had it easy at all. Her family had been awfully judgmental of her, not understanding the delicate madness inside of her. And it was delicate. She was like this flower. Delicate. Fragile, like lace made out of spider webs.

The dreams were haunting her again. They were pounding through her brain, ignoring all her pleas for mercy, just as the madness inside ignored her family's pleas for reason. How could she know reason? She'd never known reason. Only magic, only the odd things that seemed to happen when she was upset. That was her only reason. The knowledge that she could kill, without meaning to. That was the only reason that she hadn't plunged into the Kingdom of Dreams long before now.

There was a crunching sound behind her – a boot hitting dry grass. The man crouched down beside her, staring at the flower. She let out a whisper of a sigh, unhappy that she – being of dirty muggle blood – would never know the honor of a wand to use her magic. Unhappy also, that these feelings of jealousy towards her beloved could only be repressed, not forgotten.

But it was the day of her wedding, and her beloved had come to find her. He was everything she wanted in life. He could interpret every whisper, every sigh. Every moan, laugh, grumble and whimper she let out, he could interpret. "You shouldn't be here." Her voice was quiet, in deference to the pain in her head that the dreams had caused.

He sensed instinctively what the reason was, and kept his voice quiet too. "Why not?"

She almost wept at the question. Every minute apart was death for her, and he was asking her to abandon her family's wishes yet again. She was no saint, just a woman with a love so great that only murder could destroy it. "Tradition." The excuse was exactly that. An excuse.

"Tradition? It is traditional to keep your virginity, and yet, you are tainted before marriage."

The headaches were rising again. A rush of heat flared up her cheeks, shamed that he would even mention that. It was the reason her family had been so judgmental. It was the reason for this marriage. And it was the reason for the headaches. She didn't know how they were linked, but these headaches had started just after...that night. "By you."

"Yes." He didn't need to acknowledge anymore than that, instead crouching down beside her in a gesture of compassion. He'd been angry, she knew. She'd probably missed the wedding. It didn't matter. Marriage was forever, and her time as a single woman was coming to an end. Her time as a maiden had already ended. "You're bleeding."

"I know." Two simple words that melted the anger from his face. He knew what had happened. He understood her. Understood her like no one else on Earth. He was so gorgeous. So handsome. And he knew her better than she knew herself.

"Why?"

"It helped the pain. "

The man sighed. She'd been in one of her trances, obviously. She wouldn't have hurt herself otherwise. It was normal for her to have these. . .periods of lust, to want to hurt herself. He couldn't stop them; he could only support her when she fell. He alone knew the reasons for these headaches, and they were worrisome to say the least.

"Do you think," she began, "that I'll live to be one hundred?"

_No. He didn't._

His reply was serious, his voice affectionate and determined. "I'll make sure your soul will live to be one thousand."

She smiled at him, unknowingly crushing the flower in her hand. "I know, Thom. You promised me."

"I keep my promises."

* * *

**Author's Note:** I did promise you a revised version of the Myth of Innocence. And I'm pleased to say that it's finally here. After much thinking, a lot of procrastinating, learning HTML, frustration at the plot and my ability to be sidetracked, I have reformatted, re-written, re-plotted, and it's finally here. Thank you to those who have stuck with me this long.Your loyalty means everything to me.

I don't really like Author's Notes, so I tend to keep them down to a minimum -- telling you about something involved in the story, usually. So just know now that your reviews are greatly appreciated, and something I couldn't live without.

_Catalina Royce_


	2. Struggles

**Title:** The Myth of Innocence  
**Author:** Catalina Royce  
**Disclaimer:** These stories are based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
**Rating:** R

**

Struggles

**

_There is no pain so great as the memory of joy in present grief._  
Aeschylus

Ginny awoke to the sound of screeching. Her mother had just come up the stairs to find out that she was still asleep, "And on the 1st of September, too". She left muttering about foolish girls and their annoying brothers – testimony that, despite the fact that Fred and George were fully able to support themselves, they continued to try their wares out on their 'poor defenseless mother'.

She didn't have time for a shower – a fact that greatly upset her, so Ginny changed into her clothes, slipping her robes over the top. She might belong to the Weasley's, but pride prevented her from showing how badly off they were. And it wasn't as if they were going to die of hunger anytime soon. It was just that they weren't as well off as some might be.

Ginny stacked up her textbooks, checking that she had everything. 'The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 6), A History of Magic, Magical Theory, Advanced Transfiguration, One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, Magical Drafts and Potions...' yes, everything was there. This year was going to be good; she knew it. _Besides, maybe Ron Harry and Hermione will accept me this year..._Ginny thought excitedly. 

_Oh please, an acid voice replied in her mind. Why would you want to hang around with them? Harry's never going to want you. He's too wrapped up in that mudblood of his-- Hermione._

_That's not a nice thing to say,_ Ginny argued silently. _Hermione's my best friend and they're just good pals._

The voice disagreed with a saccharine sweet tone. _That's what you think._

_Well, someone got up on the wrong side of the bed today._

_I got up on the same side as you,_ the voice replied dryly. Ginny grinned and laughed, neatly packing her clothes in the trunk. She ran her hand through her hair, unconsciously trying to tame the red mass as she surveyed her belongings. The trunk was old and battered. It was a hand-me-down from George, who in turn had gotten it from Bill. When they'd left school, they'd passed it down, which had infuriated Virginia, and mildly irritated Ginny. She never got anything new.

Ginny sighed and started lugging the trunk down to the front door, wishing her room wasn't on the stairs. Molly, Ginny's mother, called up to her. 'Ginny, we're ready to go! Hurry up!' Molly turned and left, muttering, 'That girl has no sense of time.'

Virginia's acid tongue let itself be known. 'And that girl has no idea about keeping her legs shut, or at the very _least_ using contraceptives.' Thankfully, though, Molly was out of earshot. Ginny breathed a sigh of relief. Stopping Virginia from taking control of her body was getting harder. 'You should really try to control yourself,' she murmured to Virginia. 'She is our mother.'

_She didn't give birth to me._

'You never told me who did.'

_It was you._

'Who's the father?' She joked to cover her discomfort.

_You aren't ready for that yet._

Shrugging off her thoughts, Ginny finished her chore and clambered into the Weasley's car, glad to be going back to Hogwarts for another year. 'Gee, Gin, you took long enough' Ron said, grinning as she shot him a glare worthy of Percy. It didn't disturb him, though. Ron merely shut up and turned to the window.

**

.

**

The trip was uneventful, but for the occasional first year, wanting to know who was in her compartment. They lost interest when they realized she was the only occupant.

As the horseless -- or rather, Thestral pulled -- carriages took her, again alone, to the castle, Ginny wondered if anyone would care if she left, or let Virginia take over. Being alone was, well..lonely. She had spent a brief period of time with Ron, Harry and Hermione, but it had ended rather abruptly at the end of her fifth year.

Entering the castle, she saw Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape standing on the stairs, eagle eyes obviously looking for someone. However, this crush would probably prevent even them from finding their prey, whoever they were. Ginny paused as McGonagall locked eyes with her, and silently called her over. Ginny winced as she walked towards the two – both Professors intimidated her.

Ginny halted in front of them, nodding at Snape's smirk. Funnily enough, Snape was the only teacher Virginia respected, accepted, and even liked. Ginny hated both him and his class. In a rare show of compromise, Virginia behaved herself if she could take control during Potions. 'Yes, Professor?' Ginny addressed McGonagall quietly, trying not to let her voice tremble.

'Miss Weasley, Professor Snape has talked to me about your potions class.'

'Did I do something wrong?'

'No, in fact, you did something very right. You have excelled in Potions, far further than sixth year. It has been suggested that you advance to Seventh Year Potions.' Ginny's eyes bugged. She didn't think Virginia was that good. 'However,' McGonagall went on, 'it will require certain...sacrifices. For instance, your timetable will need adjustments. For obvious reasons, the same classes don't occur at the same time. If you drop Divination, you can fit in your Potions and have a study period, which you _will_ need. The work is much harder, as the seventh years are studying for N.E.W.T.s, or rather, will be as soon as classes commence.'

'What Professor McGonagall is trying to say is that if you accept, it will be a harrowing year,' Snape interjected dryly. 'Sleep will be a commodity, but, you will be taught things most students could only dream of.'

Ginny hesitated. She'd always dreamt about being noticed by people. Growing up had been hard – with 6 successful brothers, she'd been forgotten on regular occasions. But in her first year – and in the 6 months after that – she'd discovered there were two types of attention. Good attention – when you've done something to be proud of, and bad attention. Instinct told her that if she accepted, she'd receive bad attention. But perhaps, just perhaps, she could manipulate the attention to be good, like Brietta, and Luna – girls in her year. 'Can I please think it over. For just a while?'

Snape looked as though he'd swallowed a lemon, so unexpected was her indecision. 'Very well.'

Ginny breathed a sigh of relief that she hadn't offended the professor. Even greater was her achievement of coming out alive. Quite simply, she was scared of most Hogwarts professors. They seemed to be rather able to frighten students out of their wits. Even Professor Flitwick was nasty when riled.

The entire exchange had taken ten minutes; the first years weren't even there yet. "Go and participate in the Feast." McGonagall ordered. Ginny nodded and left, seating herself beside Ron. Virginia silently cursed as Neville sat on her other side and immediately started leaning over her to talk to Ron. Just then, the first years filed in, and the hat started its song, much to Ginny's delight. She reveled in singing. The sounds and sights were brilliant. However, she couldn't sing a note.

_Come forth and sit upon this stool  
And place me on your head.  
I will shuffle through your mind,  
Until your head's well read._

My job's to tell where you belong  
I'm a sorting hat, you see  
And once I've finished, I shall put  
You where you need to be.

You may be brave – courageous,  
You may be brash and bold  
If that's legit, then you'll fit  
The noble Gryffindor mold.

Maybe you are loyal,  
And maybe you are just.  
If that is true, then for you,  
Hufflepuff's a must.

But then you might be clever,  
And intellect's your game.  
And if so, then I know,  
Ravenclaw's the name.

Lastly there's the devious  
The ambitious and the sly.  
If this is you, I know what to do  
And Slytherin I'll cry.

So try me on and be surprised  
I'm full of good ideas  
I'll see your mind, and then I'll find,  
The house that gets your cheers!

The houses cheered, smiling and laughing, as the sorting ceremony began. "Asquith, Jake," was sorted into Hufflepuff. Ginny sat and smiled, wondering what life in that house would be like. "Bruswyn, Kayri," was sent to Slytherin. Wincing, Ginny tried not to concentrate on the voice in her mind – the memories of the hat telling her where she should be placed.

_'Hmm...wonderful mind, I see...'_

"Einarhla, Therese."

_'Not a lot of loyalty.'_

"RAVENCLAW!"

_'Not Hufflepuff, you say? Sort of prejudiced, aren't you?'_

"Ilkla, Paul"

_'Oh? You want to go to Gryffindor? You're very capable of Slytherin. It almost seems as if it's running through your veins. But, I suppose, I'll have to accede to your wishes...'_

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Ginny was startled out of her reverie by the hat's cry, and the subsequent cheering of her house. The boy sat down next to Neville, and Ginny leaned around Neville to smile at him. He grinned at her, nerves showing on his face. Neville turned to Paul, then, and all was lost as Ginny once again was forgotten.

Thoughts swirled around in her brain. What if she wasn't supposed to be here? What if God was punishing her for something? What if there were half-squibs, people who were wizards but who shouldn't be, and she was one of them? Perhaps one day she could become a better witch. But wait...

Something was nagging at her brain, begging her to remember. Earlier that day, what had she done? Home, train, Hogwarts, McGonagall...Snape! She was a better witch. She could go up in Potions. Perhaps she could prove to God how good she was, that she wasn't taking her power for granted. Perhaps then he'd let her succeed in other areas of witchcraft...

"Veraugur, Alaina." She, too, was sent to Slytherin amidst cheers and hissing. Ginny stayed silent, ignoring the rest of the feast.

**

.

**

Classes began the next day, starting with Arithmancy, then Transfiguration. They passed quickly for Ginny. She was happy here. Learning. Besides, she had to tell McGonagall that she was accepting Snape's offer. She didn't know when during the night that she'd decided, but somehow the decision was made. "Now," asked McGonagall during her lesson. "Does anyone know the animagus potion? No one?" She looked a little disappointed.

_Oh, for fuck's sake,_ Virginia complained as Ginny racked her memory. _There are three. The first, Manus, is used in preparation. Natalius is the second, and must be taken during the new moon. The third must be taken after transformation, otherwise, the next time you transform, your magic will be confused and you'll get stuck between two animals. The potion is called Liturae._

"Miss Weasley?" McGonagall queried. "Do you know?"

Ginny, not wanting to be a show off, replied, "No, professor."

McGonagall shot her a look that obviously said, "Maybe Snape was wrong about you." Virginia screamed her fury at Ginny's reluctance. _I gave you the answer, all the information, and what do you say? 'I don't know miss. I'm a little shoe licker, Miss, who likes to fawn over Pin dick Potter.'_ She mimicked with cruel accuracy.

Ginny started to rebuff that with great dignity. However, if she'd learnt anything – despite the fact that Virginia had a temper – it was that dignity never worked with Virginia. _That's not true, I –_

_Just prefer not to show your true colours. I'm sick of this,_ Virginia butted in.

_Fine,_ Ginny replied, at the same time McGonagall let the class out. Ginny stayed behind, waiting nervously for McGonagall to speak.

"What is it, Miss Weasley?"

"Well," Ginny swallowed once, her courage deserting her. "I wanted to let you know I'm planning on accepting Professor Snape's offer."

The professor simply raised her eyebrow, and handed Ginny's new timetable to her. "If you have any trouble or problems, or feel the need to move back to 6th Year Potions, contact me and I'll have things sorted out."

Ginny nodded once and started down the hall, all the while speaking to the other person inside her head. _You know, Virginia, instead of hurting each other trying to gain control, I think it might be possible to...to co-operate. I want to be seen. You want to be powerful. Do you think we might try?_

There was silence for a second as Virginia mulled it over. _We might try._ Was her only answer. Ginny expected no more. For a second, Ginny leant against a wall, letting Virginia take some control, and keeping some of herself. For a while, Ginny was disorientated, feeling like she was going to be sick. But then she realized that she was no longer fighting to survive in her brain, and instead swallowed the rising bile in her throat and started walking.

The change in Ginny could be seen in her demeanor. Whereas Ginny was pushed to the walls, hunched and cowering, Virginia operated in the full current of the school halls, straight, proud, and giving as good as she got...which caused a few strange looks. The two of them together, however, made Ginny feel like a normal person for once. Of course, she was taking steps for two people, and it was hard to co-ordinate, but none-the-less, she was happy.

She walked quickly, oblivious to others. However, despite her hurrying, she was late. _Damned...Lucky..._ came the two thoughts. Ginny paused, as one did when two people spoke at the same time, then voiced her thought. _Lucky McGonagall sent a note with us._ Virginia said nothing.

The class, including the Dream Team, looked up as the door creaked open. The Gryffindor's eyes widened, the Slytherins just looked amused. This mousy haired girl, one they'd all forgotten, had suddenly burst into Potions. Added to that was the fact that she seemed to be rather dazed and almost dizzy, as if fevered.

"Miss Weasley," Snape drawled. "Nice of you to join us."

She smirked, giving a remarkable impression of Draco Malfoy. "I wouldn't miss it for the world, Sir," she gave the word 'Sir" a nasty inflection. "It took me a while to decide." Ginny was shocked at the camaraderie she could feel when Virginia was speaking to Snape, the respect and admiration of one master towards another, and she finally understood some things about Virginia – things it had taken her 4 and a half years to learn. The Gryffindors gaped, and the Slytherins smirked, thinking that perhaps Ginny had decided to get tutoring.

Snape just raised an eyebrow. "I had no doubt in my mind. I wonder where yours came from."

"My mind was playing tricks on me," she stated, quite truthfully. "Where should I be seated?" Snape pointed to the Slytherin side, curiosity flaring in his gaze. The backseat was empty of people. Potion ingredients covered almost every inch of the table, but for the end with the cauldron. Looking up, she noticed everyone was already working. Ginny was undecided for a while, but Virginia simply chose a mid-strength Silver cauldron, size 8. She whispered to Ginny in her mind. _Don't worry about it. Snape and I have already discussed my lack of consideration for his teaching methods. We'll be fine._ Ginny was left only to be thankful that, while they were separate entities, they were both human – in a matter of speaking – and they both felt exactly the same thing as humans. At the moment, Virginia was feeling compassionate.

Picking out some Gillyweed roots, Virginia recorded the amount, and dropped them in. Frowning in concentration, she repeated the process with an ever-growing list of ingredients.

As they neared the end of the lesson, Snape stalked up and down the corridor, and stopped at her table. "Miss Weasley, what, may I ask, are you making?"

"Well, if I've made it correctly," she replied, staring intently at the bright teal colour of the potion, "it's a new invisibility potion."

"Oh? Care to explain?"

"As you know, the two potions already available, Occaecerus and Caecumus, aren't effective, so this is what I've done. I took Gillyweed roots, which will bring in the liquefaction needed, and yet ignored in most invisibility spells. Then I added aconite, powdered snake fangs, bicorn horn and essence of belladonna. Finally, because the infusion is potently poisonous, and would instantly cause paralysation, I added bezoar, which nullifies all those ingredients, at the same time adding a factor to enhance the potion, so, instead of just making you transparent, but keeping your shape, it makes you completely invisible, much like an invisibility cloak would. I have, however, left out the Demiguise hair, because I'm allergic to it. This was also the reason I had to modify the potions."

Snape raised an eyebrow, ignoring the fidgeting students wanting to go out to lunch. "Why don't you try it?"

She nodded and calmly took a sip. The class gasped as, almost instantly, she disappeared. "Very good, Virginia. Now how are you going to reappear?" They heard a snort, and she popped back into view. Ginny was still feeling shock that when she'd looked down, she hadn't been able to see herself.

"Of course," Hermione whispered. "She added snake fangs, which gives a voluntary action. . ."

"Why?" asked Ron.

"No one's really been sure why, although they think it's something to do with the fact that snake fangs are retractable…" She trailed off as Snape shot her a glare.

"20 points from Gryffindor for talking in class, Miss Granger. Virginia, you'll be paired with someone until you know how this class operates…"

"Who?"

Snape's eyes searched the classroom, looking for someone suitable.

* * *

**Translations**

_Manus_ – **manus** -us f. [hand]; 'manus dare' , [to surrender]; 'in manibus', [on hand, in preparation]; 'servus ad manum', [a secretary]; abl. 'manu', [by hand, artificially].

_Natalius_ – **natalis** -e [relating to birth , natal]; m. as subst. [a birthday]; plur. [birth, origin].

_Liturae_ – **litura** -ae f. [an erasure , correction; a passage erased; a blot].

_Occaecerus_ – **occaeco** -are [to make blind , to blind, to darken; to conceal, make invisible, to make dull or numb]. 

_Caecumus_ – **caecus** -a -um act. , [blind, not seeing; intellectually or morally blind; uncertain, objectless]; pass., [unseen, hidden, obscure, dark].


	3. Corruption

**Title:** The Myth of Innocence  
**Author:** Catalina Royce  
**Disclaimer:** These stories are based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
**Rating:** R

**

Corruption

**

"Blaise Zabini. Class dismissed." The rattle and clutter as students left was offset by Snape's silence. Virginia stared at him fearlessly as a thoughtful hand came up to his chin. "That was quite an interesting discovery, Virginia. What made you think of it?"

Some people were afraid of Snape, with his fearsome ways and horrid temper. Fortunately, Virginia wasn't one of them – seeing instead Snape as a young man who'd been through a lot, and who had a brilliant reputation as a potions master.

"Over the summer, I studied Kianar Romatur's 'Theories of Magical Potency'. Her thesis was quite intriguing, but it had two rather gargantuan flaws. There was no bezoars, or snake fangs. It was so simple that I honestly find it hard to believe no one has made the potion before." She waited for his remarks. It wasn't long coming.

"Actually, Virginia, there is a reason for that. Snake fangs and horn of bicorn together create a slow acting toxin that bezoars doesn't affect."

"However, the aconite invalidates that, doesn't it?"

Snape stared at her in dawning wonder. "You are quite correct, Virginia. Why, this discovery could…"

"Give us a new invisibility potion?" She asked dryly, knowing giving out extravagant praise would make him feel vulnerable, and that it would disrupt the camaraderie between the two. Ginny stared in wonder at this new side of Virginia, unsure as to how to react.

"Yes. Quite. One question though. Why add the essence of Belladonna? It isn't needed in the infusion at all, and serves no real purpose."

"It looks harmless, and yet is one of the most powerful of poisons. It's my favorite." With that, she left. Snape stared after her with shock, as she seemed to be taking steps for two people – as if her legs weren't co-operating.

**

.

**

Sighing, Ginny closed her Arithmancy textbook, "The Guide to Arithmancy," and hunched over in her armchair, rubbing her tired eyes. She was the only person left in the common room, and for once, glad to be alone.

The room was warm, made so by the crackling fire in the hearth. Ginny rubbed her legs. They were curled under her, and were beginning to cramp. _Maybe I'm getting old. _

_To get old you need to be intelligent, and less naïve._

_I'm not going to fight with you tonight, Virginia. I'm too tired._

_Damn. I'm feeling energized. Want to go for a walk?_

_I'd prefer not._

Virginia left, huffing to herself. It seemed that – for a while at least – the co-operation idea was gone. Ginny wondered what would happen if she killed herself. She couldn't in all conscience do that – this body didn't just belong to her, after all, but sometimes this feeling of being alone was too much for her.

Almost sad, considering she had two people in her head.

Ginny started as she heard voices, real ones, and was about to show herself when her name was spoken. "…Ginny can't be in our Potions class." Ronald Weasley whined. His distorted face could be seen from the metal grate in front of the fire. He had all the Weasley traits, most of which Virginia had missed out on, or had grown out of. Shocking red hair, freckles, and a lanky body. Because she was female, she'd missed out on the gangly lines, instead holding remarkable curves that would stop traffic...not that anyone would ever see them. The red hair had gotten darker as she was older, and was now a deep mahogany. The freckles had faded for some reason, and her complexion was pale, almost ethereally so.

"Did you see her?" Hermione put in her two cents. "Honestly, she's a bitch! I thought for sure Snape'd give her a detention. And yet, he didn't!"

"Come off it Hermione. You're just jealous because she's smarter than you."

"She isn't! It's just potions. She must be sleeping with Snape. It's the only reason he'd let her off. Oh, here it is." There was a scrunching of parchment, and the three retreated. It didn't occur to Ginny to question why they were down at the same time, how it could possibly have happened unless Hermione was sleeping in the same room. She was too distraught.

**

.

**

The disappointment didn't go away through the long night. It didn't go away as she automatically went through classes, it didn't go away the night after that, nor did it leave her in the night that followed. It was Virginia who realized with a start that she hadn't slept for three days. When she did come to her senses, Virginia made her way down to her safe haven. The Chamber of Secrets.

Myrtle, who'd been lounging in the last toilet stall, sat upright, and then leaned back again. "Oh, its you. Are you going back to the Chamber, then?"

Virginia didn't hear her, concentrating on the Chamber entrance. The Parseltongue was foreign to her, something learnt, and its complex twists of the tongue often stumping her, until a nice snake came along and explained slowly. "Open," came the hiss at last. The sink sank into the ground, after glowing a brilliant white light. Virginia levered herself into the whole.

The tunnel was slimy, dark and long, but she didn't mind. It twisted and turned on a now familiar path, until Virginia was shot out of the end, like Victor Krum on the Firebolt.

Standing, Virginia picked her way to the Chamber, a rather hard task considering that sleep deprivation was making her eyes close and blur quite regularly. Finally, after what seemed like an hour, the redhead collapsed by the feet of Salazar Slytherin. . .and Ginny slipped into place.

'I give up, Virginia. You win. I'll lie passive. You know how this works. I only come back if you want me to. Or if something happens. I promise.' Whisper soft, childlike and innocent, the poor voice was dead with sorrow. She wasn't wanted. She was dead weight. And, oh, how it hurt.

With that statement, Ginny lay down in her mind, and curled up and slept – hoping never to be awoken again. Virginia looked on in pity, before mentally stroking the child with sympathy. She whispered her glee, repressing the emotion that told her it was bad to be happy when her other half was that upset. 'Yes!'


	4. Interruptions

**Title:** The Myth of Innocence  
**Author:** Catalina Royce  
**Disclaimer:** These stories are based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
**Rating:** R

**

Interruptions

**

The next day dawned bright and cheerful. However, Virginia, still down in the Chamber, didn't know that. She'd spent another sleepless night looking for a passage she knew existed, but didn't know where. Running her hands over the smooth stone with the sensitive pads of her fingertips, she paused as she hit a barely noticeable knob in the wall. Grinning, she pressed it harder, and watched as Salazar's shoe slid out of place, revealing over twenty different stone passages.

Virginia chose one and ran along it, smiling fondly as it twisted and turned. There was a steep slope, so, obviously, she was going uphill. A light ahead signaled the end of the tunnel, and a little lump of anticipation swelled as she wondered where this passage ended. The Hufflepuff Common room, it seemed. Thankfully, it was deserted. Virginia stepped out of the room through the wall-cum-hidden-door. She had no reason to worry about her paths being discovered – Salazar had invoked ancient magic to protect them. They were unplottable, and, unless one was specifically told the passageways were there.

The knowledge of the tunnels had been handed down through the Slytherin line; Tom had passed it on to Virginia when Ginny had been possessed. She'd never had a chance to use them before. She'd never had the inclination to use them before.

The clatter that many footsteps made on stone alerted Virginia that breakfast was over. A stream of Hufflepuffs glanced curiously at her, obviously wondering what she was doing in their corridor during breakfast time. She ignored them.

The first class of the day was charms. Flitwick commended her on her fine achievement; Virginia sneered. She respected none of his praise. The attitude was the same from all of the teachers, as was Virginia's reaction. It came as a great relief when Virginia's free period showed itself.

She spent it in the library, after snarling at several Hufflepuffs and checking out "Abio Draconus." Translated, it meant 'Dragon Spirit.' The book addressed several theorems on Potions. They were to do with the idea that souls could be harness and saved by Dragon's blood – as long as the Dragon was still alive. Each contained one dangerous poison – Such as Gympie blood – but no antidote. A grimace of distaste curled her lips, and her silent insults towards these people were interrupted by a male's, "So you're the bitch that the Hufflepuff's were talking about. I should have guessed."

Virginia looked up into Blaise Zabini's dark face. She'd have to be dead not to notice how handsome he was, but he wasn't really her type. Too dark, but at the same time too light. Cheerful. Her tastes ran to pensive men. Intelligent. Silent. "They whine about nothing; silly fools that they are."

"And here I thought that Gryffindors were nice to everyone but us of the Snake Pit." His lips twitched in derision, and his dry tone made clear what he thought of such niceness – and of Slytherin reputation.

"They are. I'm not." A wealth of knowledge passed through her tone. It was she that was a Slytherin. It was she that the Sorting Hat had acknowledged. Slytherin was her rightful place, but she was a Gryffindor.

Blaise sat down, flicking his hair out of his eyes. It flopped back again a second later, and she realized that an instant connection with this person was altogether too possible. In fact, it had already happened. 'Ah. So you're a hybrid – both lion and snake.' _If only he knew,_ she thought dryly.

It was disconcerting when Ginny didn't answer her thought. All of a sudden her mind felt empty. The feeling of vulnerability made her angry. "No. I'm a Boggart." She emphasized her statement by snapping her book closed.

"You're my worst nightmare?" Asked Blaise, eyebrow rising to show his doubt.

She relaxed at his quick reply. "Obviously. Come on, we've got Potions." It was time to bring her mind under control.

**

.

**

Potions was much the same as the last lesson, only this time, instead of being rejected by both Gryffindors and Slytherins, those 'of the Snake Pit' – as Blaise called them – were, with Blaise's help, generally accepting. Generally. Two very obvious exceptions were Pansy Parkinson and Blaise's best friend, Draco Malfoy. Both showed their disgust and – in Malfoy's case – contempt of Virginia and her seating position. Virginia retaliated to their disapproval by smiling with saccharine sweetness at Pansy and openly flirting with Blaise. Blaise responded with a secret smile and a wink, showing he knew exactly what she was doing. As the time passed, Draco's sneer was replaced by a scowl of loathing. Virginia couldn't have been happier.

"Your friend dislikes me," she whispered with relish. She didn't need approval from such snobs. She was above them – she knew things that they could never know. She'd been through things they'd never dream of.

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," Blaise retorted, as he stirred St. John's Wort – the final ingredient - into their Pepper Up Potion. It was an anti-depressant, and healed scarring and tissues. Most house wives used it on cuts and scratches at home, as it was quite powerful on its own. "I'd say he absolutely loathes you."

"…and if Mr. Zabini and Miss Weasley have finished their conversation, class is dismissed." Virginia grinned at Snape's display of authority, and left the room, aware of Blaise behind her. Draco's scowl was boring holes into the middle of her back. She began to feel uncomfortable, then shrugged it off and continued walking.

"You're going to face the Lions then?" She raised an eyebrow in enquiry. "Dinner. And they," he flicked a meaningful glance towards the Dream Team, "are just waiting to pounce on you." He held up his hand, preventing Virginia's scathing speech. "I know you can handle them, probably better than I could hope to. However, it'd be more interesting for me if I could watch. And participate, at some point. Therefore, you should sit with me."

She smiled at him with approval. It seemed the Snake Pit welcomed her with open arms. At least, this snake did. And who was she to reject logic? Besides, doing so would set a cat among the pigeons. Something she'd always longed to do, but never could, with Ginny there. "Certainly. But only if you play your part well, and you find me a bed away from the Lion's Den.''

Blaise sunk to his knees in mock servitude. "For you, Milady, anything."

_"For you, Milady, anything." The young man's head was bowed, and he was kneeling, his mop of wheat-colored hair falling over his face. He was attractive enough, she supposed, in a youngish way. He was eager, too, something that was always a novelty to her._

She widened her eyes, knowing the force of her beauty. Full lips coupled with an oval face and pure white skin gave her a haunting look of innocence. Men had carried that look with them until their dying day. "Anything? You would die for me then?"

The boy hesitated. He'd heard stories about this Countess. They said she was bloodthirsty. Insane. That she'd extract all promises from the men who courted her. But then, rumors and gossip were never true, were they? "Yes, Countess, I would."

The Countess sighed inwardly. Another fool trying to impress her. So many men came, all but the one who understood her. Pushing back the aches of loneliness, the Countess smiled and snapped her fingers, imagining the blood that would run from the boy's neck. Two guards rushed forward, looking slightly sickened by their allegiances to her. They knew what was coming. She smiled at them both. "He's going to die for me."

The boy looked around, his blue eyes running almost wild. The guards grasped his arms, and pulled him away. He screamed, knowing he was heading for the Tower. He was going to die.

Oh, how she wished she were in his place.

Blaise looked at Virginia with worry. She'd gone pale for a moment, eyes spinning out of focus, as if she were listening to something particularly disturbing. "Virginia?"

She blinked once, eyes finally concentrating on him. "Pardon? Sorry, I was lost for a moment. Dreaming, I suppose." Her laugh was a superficial laugh – her eyes were solemn and slightly worried. Perhaps something was wrong with her? No, Ginny was the only other person inside her head, and Ginny was currently defenseless. She had to protect Ginny – her morals wouldn't let her tell anyone about Ginny, not when Ginny was so little, so childlike. She wasn't old enough – mature enough – to deal with that.

So what was wrong here?


	5. Betrayals

**Title:** The Myth of Innocence  
**Author:** Catalina Royce  
**Disclaimer:** These stories are based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
**Rating:** R

**

Betrayals

**

"Dammit, Blaise, what the hell do you think you're doing?"

Blaise lowered his book – Criminal Curses – and stared calmly at Draco. Draco's hair was mussed, his expression was cold, and his eyes were flinty. It was obvious by his steely whisper that Draco had been preparing himself for this talk since potions. "Believe it or not, Draco, I'm reading."

Draco glared at him, then down at the sleeping Virginia, whose head was resting on Blaise's thigh. "You know I don't mean that. I mean," he made a furious gesture toward her, "that."

Blaise laid a protective hand on her head, stroking her soft hair. "I'm currently letting her use me as a pillow." There was a certain fondness in his voice. He stared down at her. "Doesn't she look like an angel?"

Draco's eyes flickered from a strange silver-grey, to a darker gunmetal colour. Only Blaise and several close friends knew what that colour meant. Draco was afraid. "What's wrong?"

"You. You haven't sounded like that since Gypsy died. You can't get emotionally involved – in any way – with a Weasley. We need to stay neutral. It's the only way we're going to survive this war. Getting involved with Weasleys is not staying neutral. They're strong supporters of the Resistance."

"I could protect her."

"No. No one can protect us. We can only look after ourselves." Draco ran a hand through his hair, mussing it even more. "If we let her join us – if you consort with her – then she will die. Now I hate the Weasleys as much as any Slytherin, if not more so, but I am not going to have her life hanging over my head. So choose, Blaise. Her, or her life."

Blaise thought for a minute. He didn't truly believe that she'd die. She was strong, healthy. And he was completely taken with her. "I choose her. We could bring her in. I've seen the way the Gryffindors treat her. We could make her one of us."

Draco slowly nodded. "Fine. If she agrees. If she doesn't, you know what you have to do."

Blaise nodded, his attentions already back to Virginia. "Doesn't she remind you of Gypsy?" His voice, and expression, showed an almost violent longing. "Not physically, but just...the way she is a spitfire when she's awake, and such an angel asleep..."

Draco sat down on the couch opposite Blaise. All the other Slytherins had gone to sleep, after shooting puzzled glances at the Gryffindor in their midst. They'd said nothing. Pansy was ill and at the infirmary – she was the only troublemaker. He sighed, and leaned in. "I suppose she does, in an odd kind of way. But you have to remember that she isn't your little sister. If she joins, she has to look after herself. Where are you putting her?"

"She can sleep with me." She wasn't his little sister, though. Virginia was healthy. She was alive.

After sending Blaise a sharp look, Draco asked him, "Do you think that's wise?"

"I won't touch her. She is a friend."

The blonde nodded, and flicked a withering glance at the sleeping girl, then walked off to the seventh year boy's dormitory.

**

.

**

Virginia's eyelids wavered between opening and staying closed, much like her state of consciousness. Someone was talking to her. Groaning, she rolled over, encountered warm flesh, buried her head in a pillow, and tried to ignore the insistent voice. When that failed, she began plotting the unseemly demise of this unknown person. Finally, it registered that the warm flesh she'd encountered wasn't hers, and did, in fact, belong to the speaker. The revelation that a bed mate would be rude enough to wake her up gave her enough strength to wrench her head out from underneath the pillow, scream "Fuck off!" and replace the pillow to its former position before going back to sleep.

Unfortunately, this person didn't understand her command, or wishes, and persisted in trying to bring her back to reality. She whimpered, rolled over, and tried to open her eyes. It was so hard. Four nights lack of sleep meant that all her meager energy reserves had been burnt up like floo powder. The back of a hand slapped itself lightly against her cheek, and then lifted her up into a sitting position. "Come on, wake up. Wake up."

"Can't," she slurred, her brain about to shut down by using its 'fainting of exhaustion' method. It had just gotten a taste of relaxation, and it wasn't about to give that up. "Tired. Four nights sleep…none. Leave me alone..."

Blaise sighed, lay her down again and let her go back to sleep. From her scrambled speech, it seemed that she'd not slept for four days. For her, rest was more important than his cause, at least for now.

**

.

**

"Where is she?" It was evident in Draco's tone that he thought Virginia had refused to join their band of renegades.

Blaise moderated his voice, so that his anger over his friend's attitude wouldn't show. "Asleep. Practically passed out from exhaustion when I woke her up."

"Is she sick?" 

"Hasn't slept for days. Mumbled something in her sleep to do with a man named Tom, and passages. I'd say she's been investigating the school after this change of hers."

"Change?"

"You didn't know? She went from good girl to right ol' bitch in the space of 24 hours. The entire school is talking about it. Spits on the Ravenclaws, ignores the Hufflepuffs, insults the Gryffindors." When Draco shot him a look of disbelief, he edited his story. "Well, maybe I'm exaggerating just a touch."

"I've never really taken much notice of her. When I did, I never really got past the Weasley hair and freckles."

Blaise sent a shocked glance at Draco. "You've never gotten anywhere near to overcoming prejudices, have you? She doesn't have the Weasley hair and freckles. The Weasley hair is shocking red; hers is almost brown it's so dark. The freckles on her face are non-existent. She's as pale and unblemished as you are."

There was a silence while Draco registered that information. Blaise stared at him with amusement. It appeared that old habits died hard. While Draco was now more open-minded than he used to be, it seemed that where the Weasleys were concerned, his mind was a closed book. Draco shrugged. "She's still a Weasley. I suggest, Blaise, that you stay away from her. Far away. The Weasleys cause trouble, and I wouldn't want her to get hurt."

Blaise's face closed over, eyes hardening. His voice became deadly quiet, and as hard as stone. "Are you threatening her?"

Face impassive, Draco replied. "What gave you that idea? I'm merely warning you." With that, he turned and left the common room.

**

.

**

Virginia sighed and rolled over onto her stomach, eyes opening for the first time in almost 23 hours. Her hand stroked the soft covers, and it registered that these were silk sheets. Green ones, if her eyes didn't deceive her. Obviously, then, she was in a Slytherin bed. Whose bed, though? Vague memories floated through her brain. Snatches of an argument between two males voiced themselves. She sighed and rubbed her face, then climbed out of the bed. There was a mirror on the far side of the room. She padded over, and peered into it. The mirror made a tsking sound. "Just got out of bed, have you? At this hour? Well, aren't we a lazy one." The feminine voice sounded somewhat petulant, and Virginia grimaced as she ran her fingers through her hair. However, it was quite fine and fell to halfway down her back, so she couldn't do much without a brush. She grimaced. Well, at least no one is here to see me.

She straightened the clothes she'd slept in. It was a man's shirt, and the thought of someone changing her without her knowledge was vaguely disquieting, but at least she wasn't in the nude. She chuckled as she imagined Ginny's reaction to this situation, and realized with a pang that Ginny was gone. Although her brain felt freer than it had in years, and she didn't have to fight to be heard, she'd gotten used to the cramped quarters of the mind. Now, it seemed empty. Alone. Her head swam and she slumped against the wall. She was hungry, having not eaten in almost as long as she'd done without sleeping. She looked outside around, realizing the darkness wasn't just the gloominess of the dungeons, but rather, also the coming of night.

Wrinkling her nose, Virginia estimated it was around 6 at night, and therefore it was most likely that the students were at dinner. It was altogether possible for her to leave without being noticed. The question was, did she really want to go back to the Gryffindors? The answer was unequivocally no. So decided, she made her way down to the common room and sat in a very comfortable armchair. She was just dosing off again as the students entered the quarters. They stared at her, then turned and sat down in their places, some of them muttering among themselves. From the trifles of conversations she heard, it seemed she'd taken someone's chair. _Too bad. I honestly don't care._

A petite blonde walked in, stopped, and stared maliciously. "Well, well, well. If it isn't the littlest Weasel," Pansy drawled, shooting looks around the room. Everyone silenced himself or herself; despite their natures, they were Slytherins, and a patriotic impulse led them to gleefully await the slaughter of a non-Slytherin.

"Pansy." Virginia nodded calmly, then paused as if thinking. "The little flower. I say, do you suppose your parents called you that as an attempt at irony?"

Apparently, she knew what that meant, and anger – an ugly look on her – flashed across her face. "I suppose they called you Virginia because they knew you'd stay one forever."

The redhead smiled. "If we follow that train of thought, they called me Arnica because I'm poisonous. And that can't be true. You aren't dead yet, much to my dismay."

Pansy snarled and started forward to attack the younger woman, but was stopped by a hand on her shoulder. It was long, elegant and graceful, yet lacked the maturity that Snape's hands held. Draco stood behind Pansy, sneering at Virginia. She looked back, and practically purred, her claws sheathed for now. Draco smiled down at her. He measured 6'2, and so Pansy, with a 5'4 frame, didn't even reach his shoulder. "Hello Weasel. Aren't you in the wrong house?"

"Actually, I think I'm finally in the right house."

At that point, Blaise Zabini entered, holding a plate of food. He flicked a glance at Draco, who raised an eyebrow and retreated to a nearby couch; where he pulled Pansy down to sit with him.

"I thought you might be hungry." 

She sent one last vicious glare towards Malfoy, and then turned to smile up at Blaise. "You shouldn't have. But I'm glad you did."

She swallowed the food bite by tiny bite, forcing herself to eat in moderation. It wouldn't do for her to scoff down her food, and then throw it all up in front of the Slytherins. She had to have their respect, or she'd never be able to join them. The tastes were heavenly to her starved body, and she delighted in the taste of the lamb cutlets, mashed potatoes and vegetables.

Even the occasional outburst from Pansy didn't discourage her.

When she'd finished, Blaise gestured to her. She set aside her plate and followed him to his bedroom. It dawned on her that she'd slept in his bed last night. "I want to talk to you about something," he was saying.

She nodded. "Good. I would also like to talk to you about something."

He was obviously nervous, because he gestured for her to go ahead. He didn't want to say what he had to say. "Go on."

She nodded and composed her thoughts. It was hard, considering that all of a sudden, she'd remembered she was in his shirt, and practically naked beneath that. "Are you a Death Eater?" She shook her head, and then mumbled, "You're a Slytherin, and of course you're a Death Eater." She didn't give him a chance to say that he was, however unwilling. "I wish to see Voldemort. Not just that, I wish to join the Death Eaters."

He stared at her, flabbergasted. "Why?"

"Partly because I want to hurt the three nitwits as revenge for something they did to...my friend, but also because I want power. Voldemort will die soon, and if I can ingratiate myself into the fold before then, I can become their next leader. Tom will welcome me, I know it. And so, I come to you."

She stared it him intently, never once breaking eye contact. She was surprised, however, that there seemed to be a flicker of pain in his gaze. Finally, he agreed, replying coldly, "Certainly. I will take you to the next gathering.

She yawned widely. "I think it is time for me to sleep."

He watched her climb into his bed, then stroked a lock of hair away form her face. "Goodnight." He stood there timelessly, finally shedding a tear at what he'd thought he'd found. It seemed that fate still wanted to play tricks on him.

  
  


"So?" Draco asked once everyone had left the common room. "Did she agree?"

"No," Blaise replied bitterly, staring into the roaring fire. "I never got a chance to ask her. She asked me, very politely, if I could help her join the Death Eaters." 

* * *

**Author's Note:** Arnica – Virginia's middle name – is a poisonous herb. It's used to treat wounds and bruises where the skin is not broken. It relieves swelling and bruising. However, it cannot be taken internally, although it won't kill without you taking a lot of it. It bears daisy like yellow orange flowers throughout the summer, and produces pairs of oval, hairy leaves at the base of the plant.


	6. Rendezvous With The Devil

**Title:** The Myth of Innocence  
**Author:** Catalina Royce  
**Disclaimer:** These stories are based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
**Rating:** R

**

Rendezvous With The Devil

**

The whispers followed her everywhere. She took them all and cherished them, exchanging derisive glances with Blaise. He was worried about her, she knew, but he wouldn't help her. It seemed that secretly, he treasured the rumours as much as she did. It was only when the most ridiculous found their way to his ears that he snapped.

"I heard she was pregnant with his baby." 

Virginia and Blaise, who had been cavorting, laughing and feeding each other in a corner, were separated by their reactions, like a queen whose adviser turned against her. The younger of them laughed silkily and sent the 3rd year Hufflepuffs a heated glance. The elder wheeled around, shouting out, "Oh, for Merlin's sake! Don't you have anything to do but talk about things that could not possibly be true?"

A bold Hufflepuff shot back with, "Why don't you give us truth, then?"

Blaise grabbed Virginia's hand and stalked away from them, casting a "riscuscaput" jinx on the boy. Virginia smiled, knowing the boy's friends wouldn't yet know how to counter-act the curse. They'd have to go to the infirmary or their prefects for help. Blaise pulled her backwards into an empty classroom, and as the door closed, she caught a flash of short red hair. "Ron's outside," she whispered. "Want to give him a performance?"

"No, dammit, I don't! I'm sick of these rumours, Virginia. I know you hate your image from before this 'miraculous change', but I'm not going to be your pawn in getting revenge on your brother!" His anger was bubbling over. He'd noticed how she was laughing whenever they spoke about her. She'd get a reputation because of this. And he hadn't yet forgotten about her Death Eater plan.

Virginia froze in mid step, her face closing over. "If that is what you think I do, then I believe our...arrangement has come to a natural conclusion." She stalked over to the door, pausing just before she flung it open. "And you know nothing about my 'miraculous change'."

She blasted the door open, knowing there would be no letter from the Accidental Magic Department. She was in Hogwarts. Hogwarts did not answer to that department.

Everyone tried to get out of her path as she stormed her way down the hall. She barged into a first year, hair swirling behind her as she shot him a glare of fury. He huddled into the wall, as others stopped to comfort him. She knew where she was going. Despite being a creature of habit, she felt the need to go not to Salazar's Chambers, but instead outside. Fresh air was scarce in the Slytherin common room.

The temperature outside was chilly at best. She rubbed her bare arms, shivering. The obvious warmth of her robes was no opponent for the brittle wind that whipped her hair around her face and slapped her cheeks red.

The trees in the Forbidden Forest were groaning their protest, leaves shaking and falling with the weight of Autumn. Virginia watched silently as they fought long and hard to keep their accessories. She resisted the urge to grin every time a tree lost the fight.

She was lonely. The truth hit her quite suddenly. Was this what Ginny had been feeling? This nagging feeling inside her stomach, telling her that no one cared about her? But Ginny hadn't had anyone. Virginia did. She had Blaise – although she was still furious with him. How dare he assume that she'd just said "Dammit, I want to be bad!" and went about doing it? This was her. She wasn't Ginny. Of course, she wouldn't tell Blaise about Ginny – Ginny was sleeping. She'd given up on life. She needed protection from the outside world.

There was a snap of a twig behind her, and a strong hand clamped down on her nape. She gasped in pain and there was a masculine chuckle from behind her. Virginia tried to raise herself on her toes to stop the pressure, but it didn't work, only seeming to amuse the attacker more. Virginia winced and placed a hand on her assailant's, trying to unwrap his. The man leaned down and whispered in her ear.

"Easy, Virginia. You don't want to get hurt, now, do you?" Virginia spat, knowing that voice. It was Malfoy. The hand tightened, and Malfoy tsked her. "Where ever are you manners? I thought that thing you call mother would have at least taught you the basic rules of etiquette."

Black spots were dancing in front of her eyes. There was a slight red tinge at the side of her vision. She felt like she was dying. Worse yet, Ginny was rousing herself to protect Virginia. _No. I'm fine. Sleep, Ginny. I'll protect us._

Without a word, Ginny left and slept again.

Dear Lord, his mouth was close. So close she could feel the warm breath on the side of her neck. She shivered, and relaxed into him.

Arrogant satisfaction was pouring out from him in waves. He kissed the side of her neck, and Virginia grinned breathlessly. She'd told Ginny that she'd protect the two of them – that included their pride. She shivered again, but nonetheless pushed two fingers into Draco's eyes. He cried out and reeled back, letting go of her in the process. Much as she loved his hands – thin, elegant, graceful – she disliked being an object of unwanted attention. Especially of the painful kind.

She whirled around to face him, smirking confidently. "I don't take well to being threatened, Mister Malfoy. As I'm sure you just found out, I can certainly take care of myself. A future Death Eater must know how, after all."

He glared and lunged at her, taking her arm into his hands. The grip was tight, and she knew that, despite her bravado, he was stronger than her. More pressure and her arm would snap. Virginia blinked twice, gold spots dancing in front of her eyes this time. She closed her eyes and tried to breathe properly. It was hard. Pain kept intruding in on her concentration.

She was learning her lesson. Yes, she was. _She must remember in future,_ Virginia thought as she fought for air against the need to throw up, _never to be alone in the same room as Draco Malfoy._

Draco smiled in satisfaction, looking down at the gasping, panting little bitch in his arms. She was in pain. Good. There was no way he was going to let some little girl ruin everything he and Blaise had worked for. The small band of renegades he and Blaise headed needed their protection. And just because Blaise was infatuated with her did not mean that Draco would allow Blaise to risk everyone's lives. 

"Listen to me, Virginia Arnica Weasley. You will leave Blaise alone. You will not contact him in anyway; shape or form, and I will leave you alone. After a month, I will nominate you for a position in the Death Eaters. When you are initiated, all contact will be lost. Do you understand me?"

"Yes," she whispered quietly, eyes flying open at his words. He could see that they were dark with pain, their chocolate brown depths begging to be let go. Silent words were floating to him. Everything she wanted was expressed in her eyes. She'd do anything at this moment; anything to stop the pain.

And he let her go, satisfied with her answer. "Good. You may continue in the Slytherin quarter's, but you will not be in Blaise's bed." He sealed the bargain with a simple kiss. It was over in seconds, and he walked off, the picture of relaxation.

**

.

**

"I'll kill them both." At this statement, Hermione grabbed Ron's arms, staring worriedly at the departing figures of Ginny and Draco. A picture was worth a thousand words, after all, and what they had just seen was proof enough that Ginny wasn't so innocent anymore. She'd dated before, of course. But never someone so..._Slytherin_.

"Ron, please. Perhaps there's a reason for it." 

His face lost none of the colour, and his ears turned even redder – if that was possible. "Oh, of course," he snarled sarcastically, "he just happened to trip and his lips just happened to fall on my baby sister's neck." Hermione, realising that her tactic wasn't working, promptly suggested rationale.

"Perhaps you should ask her…before you kill her. So there won't be any mistakes. Like Harry and the Goblet incident." She smiled as she spoke, and pushed her bushy hair off her face. Ron was still tender about having betrayed Harry so easily. This gentle reminder calmed him down somewhat, leaving Hermione to ponder the real reason for – as it would later be termed – the 'Draco Ginny Embrace.'

A now calmed Ron smiled and impulsively gave Hermione a peck on the cheek. "Thanks, 'Mione. I could have made a huge mistake by going after her. I'm starving; lets go get some food."

As Ron started off down the path – bothering to wait for her was of course beyond his skills – Hermione briefly caressed her cheek, a wistful smile on her face. Her eyes shone with a brief spark of hope, before cold logic doused it. Ron liked pretty girls, pure and simple.

Besides, 'Just Friends' was good enough for her.

It would have to be. 

* * *

**Author's Note:** Yes, you can see the hint of a Ron Hermione romance blossoming, although I'm still not sure as to whether or not to persue it. If you'd like to leave me a review with your thoughts on it, I'll be sure to take them into consideration.

**Translations**

_caput_ -itis n. [the head]; meton. , [a living individual], esp. of human beings, [a person]; also [a person's life, existence];

_riscus_ -i m. [a box , trunk]. 


	7. Secrets

**Title:** The Myth of Innocence  
**Author:** Catalina Royce  
**Disclaimer:** These stories are based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
**Rating:** R

**Secrets**

_Baby's got secrets  
And she keeps them very well  
But when she finds a friend  
Then she'll have someone to tell._

**_4 Years Previous_**

_Dear Tom, I think I'm losing my memory. There are rooster feathers all over my robes and I don't know how they got there._

Ginny looked down at the scrawled words, written in the new diary. It was exactly what she'd written six months before, but this time, no one answered. And, of course, this time, there was no Tom, and no comfortable surroundings. St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries wasn't the friendliest place, even for a once-innocent now-traumatised twelve-year-old.

She'd been suffering lately. Dreams, hallucinations, sometimes even another voice in her head. She hadn't told anyone, but the nurses knew – they'd be daft if they didn't. Most nurses had walked into her at least once when she was hallucinating, with dreams so real she could almost feel them. Could almost touch them. Touch _him_.

The youngest Weasley dropped her head into her hands. There was no use denying it; she was insane. Purely, utterly mad. She had to be. Why else would a voice be there, telling her that she'd destroyed Tom, that she'd murdered him? And why was there a sudden lack of space in her mind, as if two people shared her body?

A sob was torn from her, and she closed her eyes and wrapped her arms tight around herself. Tom was gone – irrevocably, forevermore gone. She'd have to accept that, but it would be easier if this voice didn't keep telling her she was a murderer. She hadn't killed Tom, she hadn't done anything. It was Harry who had; it was Harry who received all the praise and applause. And what of her? Dreams and nightmares. That was her reward. Or was it her punishment?

Miriam bustled in, smiling as usual. She was a pleasantly plump lady, whose uniform lime green robes made her look washed out, against her cinnamon brown hair and eyes. Ginny liked her, but affection between Mediwizard and patient was rather strained; Miriam was slightly perturbed by the 'crazy Weasley'.

'Hello, Miriam,' smiled Ginny. But Miriam's reply was never heard; Ginny's voice – _her conscience?_ – chose that moment to speak, drowning out the warmth of Miriam's smile and dousing her in cold pain. Her head throbbed, eyes ached. Ginny's ears roared like all of the sea's pressure was bearing down on down on them. It was like someone had opened the back of her skull and was trying to force great big globs of pumpkin pasties into it. **_There's no room here!_** Ginny's mind screamed at the intrusion.

_Yes, there is. You'll just have to get used to it,_ the voice replied._ It is, after all, all in your head._

The horrible pun made everything seem so much worse. The artificial lighting. The buzz of normal people leading happy lives. The stale air and the pale rooms. The white of being lost – a colour adorning her room. She wondered sometimes if it kissed her when she was sleeping – after six months in the hospital, she was so pale, so white. So pure.

On the outside, that was. But the nurses, the mediwizards all knew the state of her purity.

Ginny held her head, hoping that would ease the pressure inside her, or perhaps stop her head exploding. _Whatever you are, leave me alone! _

_Whoever. And I am you. A part of you, at least._

_Why are you being so mean?_ It wasn't until Miriam gasped that Ginny realized she'd spoken out loud. Miriam left the room, looking offended and upset. She shut and locked the ward door behind her. Ginny's eyes pleaded through the small glass window to be let out, but Miriam just pursed her lips and walked off. The twelve-year-old hung her head.

_You've been here before,_ Ginny was careful to speak silently this time. _ Haven't you? You were the one talking to me._

_Yes. I was._ The other voice spoke to her, soothing her and scaring her at the same time – the way Tom's voice had.

"But..but it didn't hurt the other times." When she heard her own voice, Ginny slapped her hand over her mouth and closed her eyes, hoping the old adage was true. _See no evil, speak no evil, hear no evil._

_You think I'm evil?_

_Yes._ Ginny kept her hand where it was, her eyes tightly closed. _See no evil, speak no evil, hear no evil._

_I'm not evil, Ginny._

_See no evil, speak no evil, hear no evil… See no evil, speak no evil, hear no evil… See no evil, speak no evil, hear no evil… See no evil, speak no evil, hear no evil…_

_And it didn't hurt the other times because, well, I've just moved in permanently._

Ginny didn't respond, except to faint.

**

.

**

"Ginny!" Blaise called as she wandered down the hall, eyes dazed and unfocused. Her run in with Draco Malfoy hadn't done anything to discourage her from seeking Blaise's friendship. She'd never wanted anything more with him, which was what Mr. Malfoy had implied.

However, Ginny's anger with Blaise was still intense. He assumed to know her after two days, when she didn't even know herself, and she'd been around for _four years_. 

Ginny hadn't known it until this year, but she'd given birth to Virginia – she was Virginia's mother. And for that, Virginia would protect Ginny's very essence. She wouldn't tell anyone who they were, because if she did, then they'd be sent back to the hospital that Ginny hated so much.

Virginia faced him before he could call out again. "It's Virginia, Blaise. My name is Virginia." She winced at the subtle emphasis on the word 'my'. She didn't want him to ask questions, so she'd have to be careful.

He grimaced and ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah. Look, I wanted to talk to you," he looked around at the crowd of people standing near them, watching the proceeding with a fascinated stare. "In private."

Virginia looked around, and then walked over to an empty classroom, and pulled open the door. "After you."

Virginia faced him a few seconds later, her arms crossed over her chest. Her face was stony; chocolate brown eyes cold and hard with her anger. Her hair was down around her face and shoulders. Her pale complexion and red lips played havoc with his concentration. She had some old freckles on her nose; there were there, but faded.

She looked like she spent most of her life indoors.

Blaise looked her over again. His gaze zoomed on the side of the neck. Was that a _ bruise_ on her neck? Who would have given her a…unless she'd been…but with who?

Virginia watched the expressions on his face, and inwardly she winced. He'd jumped to the wrong conclusion, obviously. She hadn't done anything with anyone; Malfoy didn't count. Although, she could still feel his fingers sliding over, his lips pressing softly against her neck.

She almost sighed.

She didn't, though. She caught herself just in time, instead choosing to raise an eyebrow towards Blaise, a smile coming to her lips. "So what did you want to say to me?"

Blaise just shrugged, looking extremely uncomfortable in the situation. "Look...I wanted to apologise. I..I'm sorry."

Virginia's smile didn't waver. "For what?"

"For assuming." 

He didn't say anything more. He didn't need to. Virginia had already started moving across the room. She hugged him tightly, glad that she wasn't feeling that awful feeling of being lonely. No, worse, of being alone. If she'd known what Ginny had been going through, then perhaps...

"I'm sorry too. It's just...you acted like you knew me, and I don't even know myself. Sometimes, it's like," she hesitated, trying to put the truth into a context that wouldn't get her thrown into St. Mungos, "Like there are two people in my head. And no matter what I do, I'm fighting to survive, even if it's just to survive in my mind."

She sighed and rubbed her head, absently noticing that Blaise was leading her over to a desk and sitting her down. "In my first year, something bad happened to me. I didn't deal with it very well, and I was sent to St. Mungos. For a very long time I've been trying to deal with that experience, and I've just gotten over it. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah," Blaise said, smiling down at her. "Actually, Frecks, it does."

Virginia was too happy to notice he'd just given her a new nickname, one that screamed familiarity and love.

* * *

**Author's Note:** The 'old adage' that Ginny mutters, _See no evil, speak no evil, hear no evil,_ isn't actually correct. The correct saying is _See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil._ I've changed it for my purposes. 


	8. Theories

**Title:** The Myth of Innocence  
**Author:** Catalina Royce  
**Disclaimer:** These stories are based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
**Rating:** R

**

Theories

**

"Virginia." She ignored Malfoy, instead preferring to squash her peas with her fork.

She was sitting at the Slytherin table, sandwiched between Blaise and Draco. It was funny how everyone was seated, really. Pansy seemed to have assigned Crabbe and Goyle as her personal guard, because she was directly opposite Virginia, both of them beside her. It was if Pansy had decided that Virginia was dangerous, although why she'd think that, Virginia didn't know. Perhaps Blaise had some idea.

Virginia looked over to where the Dream Team sat. She saw Hermione sitting – also sandwiched – this time between Ron and Harry. They, however, seemed to be talking over the top of her head, and Virginia recognised the loneliness that Hermione would be feeling – sitting alone in a group of boys, never being able to whinge or frown or talk about anything deep and meaningful. Perhaps that might work with other guys, but not with Ron and Harry. Virginia should know. After all, Ron was Ginny's brother.

Virginia looked down at her plate, the peas adequately squished. She moved on to the potato.

"Virginia." His voice came again. This time it was hard and cold, and she knew she couldn't ignore him anymore.

"Yes?"

"I'll show you your bed now." 

She would have protested that she was still eating dinner, but his eyes mocked her for even thinking that. She'd been through with dinner at least half an hour ago, and she'd barely touched it as it was. Virginia stood up, dropping her fork with a clatter. She followed Malfoy out of the Hall, knowing that if she ever went back to The Burrow, there'd be many unspoken questions hanging over her head.

Actually, if she didn't do something quickly, Ron would probably send a letter home to Ginny's mother, and Virginia knew that Ginny would be upset if she lost her mother's respect.

She followed Malfoy down the corridors. He didn't speak to her, so she ignored his presence, instead preferring to think.

She wondered if she hated Malfoy. After all, he was the cause of Ginny's problems. But in an odd way, The Malfoys were the reason behind her existence. But the Malfoys had instigated the diary incident, after all. Tom Riddle was Virginia's father, although she'd never told Ginny that. Virginia's theory of it was that when Ginny had fed her soul into Tom, she'd started creating a shortage of souls in her body. It was just a theory, but Abio Draconus said that there needed to be a certain amount of soul in a body at one time. Virginia had first been made when Ginny had lost some of hers. When Riddle – _daddy,_ she thought dryly – had fed his soul into Ginny's he'd had to blend with Virginia. When Riddle died, enough of him had been blended with Virginia to make Virginia a complete soul.

However, in the six months that followed, Virginia hadn't been strong enough to be active for very long. It was only that day in the hospital that had allowed her to become permanent.

The theory sounded messy to her, but it was the most logical reason she could come up with. She knew that she was created during the diary incident, but she'd been dormant in the sixth months afterwards. She also knew there were parts of hers – traits of hers – that were originally Ginny's, but other parts were exactly like Tom Riddle's (_Although,_ Virginia thought, _she was hopefully without the complete evilness_). She had courage and determination, but she also had Riddle's cunning and manipulation skills. It only made sense that they'd combined.

Draco taped her on her shoulder, bringing her out of her reverie. He pointed to a bed that screamed decadence and wealth. It had to belong to one of the 'High Flyers' in Slytherin. Of course, the highest flyer she knew of was...

"I am not sleeping in your bed." She breathed, staring in horror at the bed. It had a green and silver embroidered quilt. The poster hangings were rich green velvet, and the sheets were green silk. It was decadent. It was more expensive than anything she'd ever touched. She'd conveniently forgotten that Blaise, too, slept in silk sheets.

Draco shrugged, his entire countenance one of unconcern. "That's fine. But you aren't sleeping with Blaise, as terms of our deal. So that leaves you Crabbe, Goyle, or Nott." He turned and opened a trunk – her trunk – which he must have had brought down sometime today. "At least I have enough disgust for you that I won't try to rape you in the night. Although I can't guarantee the other boys."

She'd seen the other 'boys'. They all looked like they could crush her with two fingers. Perhaps Malfoy was the lesser of two evils. And she wouldn't be alone with him. Not exactly. She could keep the hangings open, and make sure that she was in earshot with someone the entire time.

Malfoy brushed past her as he fetched something from his side table, and Virginia jumped, and realised she'd forgotten the lesson she'd learnt only this afternoon. _Never be alone in a room with Draco Malfoy,_ she reminded herself.

"Fine. I'll...I'll take the bed." _How to get out of the situation without him knowing what she was trying to do?_ "I..I think I hear Blaise - down in the common room." She started to leave, hoping it would work.

It didn't.

Malfoy's face closed over, his eyes angry. Ginny remembered the promise she'd made: she wouldn't voluntarily contact Blaise in a month. Reneging on that promise probably wasn't the best way to ensure a safe time in the Slytherin dorms.

"You will stay here for the rest of the night. You will not see him tonight. Now get changed." He folded his arms over his chest, face completely impassive. Virginia couldn't have been more shocked if someone had just pulled a gnome out of her ear.

"I'm not changing with you here." She was _afraid_ of the man for goodness sakes. She wouldn't tempt him like that.

He mocked her. "Believe me Virginia, I've seen women with much better assets. I'm sure I can control my desire for you and not 'jump your bones'."

She could have hit him. He was right. She was acting like a complete idiot. Virginia moved to her trunk and pulled out one of her nightshirts. Malfoy made a sound of disgust and stalked over to his drawers, pulling out a green silk shirt.

"You like silk, don't you?" She muttered in a nasty tone.

"I like sleeping in between silk sheets. I do not like silk shirts. This one has never been worn. You can keep it."

He stalked out of the room. Virginia smiled. Obviously, he didn't like his masculinity being called into question. She'd file that away for future reference.

Virginia climbed into the bed, feeling the slide of silk over her skin. She felt like a princess, living only to be pampered. It was heavenly. She sighed, slipping deeper under the covers, glad that she didn't have to worry about a certain Malfoy – at least not for a little while.

Her first thought when the mattress depressed was that something bad had happened. The redhead's eyes flew open, and she sat up, her mouth stretched into a gasp of worry. Draco simply looked up at her from his position on the bed. He looked so smug, lying down with his arms hooked behind his head. Virginia licked her lips.

"Sorry. I..I thought.."

"I know what you thought." He was smiling at her, but his eyes were dark. She couldn't tell what he was thinking, or feeling. He pulled her down to lie next to him, then rolled over and fell asleep.

She didn't have as much luck. She'd only slept with Blaise, and he didn't threaten her. Every time Virginia relaxed, she started to roll towards him, because the bed was depressed where he lay. Virginia tensed her muscles and sat up slightly, closing her eyes, praying for the oblivion sleep provided.

When she awoke the next day, Virginia felt like a herd of Erumpent had spent the night trampling her body. It felt like she'd gotten no rest. It seemed to her that she'd spent the night half awake, trying to stop herself from getting near Malfoy.

She yawned once, dressed quietly so as to not awake the two still in the room, and looked in the mirror to do her hair. Her brush had been brought down with her trunk, so she tamed her hair and pushed it off her face, then left the room.

"Morning." Blaise's cheery voice lit the common room.

Virginia turned to him and smiled. "Morning. How are you on this...wonderful...Monday morning?" 

"I'm well thank you."

"Virginia!" Draco called from the other side of the room. "I need to talk to you."

Virginia smiled an apology to Blaise, then turned and made her way to Draco. He looked good today, his black robes contrasting with his incredible paleness. His long fingers played idly with the coach next to him – the couch Virginia had stolen from Pansy, although Pansy seemed to have regained it this morning. She was sitting by herself, reading a leather bound book that couldn't be on the booklist. Perhaps there was more to Pansy than met the eye.

"It's breakfast time. What do you have first?"

Virginia looked around. "Nothing. Normally I'd have Divination, but I dropped it to do senior potions, so I could have a study period. I was planning to go to the library. There's some research I want to do." That, and she didn't want to be alone in this house, not anymore. Not after Draco's comments about rape last night.

Draco nodded, pleased with her answer. She felt suddenly like he was a master, and she his slave. She didn't need to account her whereabouts to him. She could do what she pleased.

Deciding to skip breakfast, Virginia left the common room quickly and made her way up to the library, ignoring the few people she saw on the way.

Madame Pince glared at Virginia, her thin face looking so much like a vulture it wouldn't take much to transfigure her, in Virginia's opinion. She stopped at the librarian's desk, then pulled out a piece of parchment. "I need this book. What section would it be in?"

Madame looked at the parchment, then pointed to the third row of books. "Over there. Third section, second shelf."

Virginia thanked her politely and move to the stacks, checking the books. "Third section, second shelf," She muttered to herself, checking the titles quietly. "Where is it?" There. Next to a green book edged in silver and gold. Her book was dusty leather, and very plain. She took her book out, then looked again at the green book. Something about it...

There was only one word on the spine; Adaline. Virginia's teeth worried at her lip, then on impulse she reached out and plucked the book from the stacks. Finding a table, Virginia sat down. She had to get to work on her thesis, which meant looking at Charon. It dealt with the idea of ferrying souls.

Virginia picked up the green book, opened it, and started reading.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Charon, in Greek mythology, is the ferryman of the dead. The souls of the deceased are brought to him by Hermes, and Charon ferries them across the river Acheron. He only accepts the dead which are buried or burned with the proper rites, and if they pay him an obolus (coin) for their passage. For that reason a corpse had always an obolus placed under the tongue. (From _pantheon.org_)

Oh, and thanks to the...two people [faer and theophania] who reviewed that last chapter. I have to say, I'm disappointed in the rest of you. *sniff* Just kidding. But read and review this chapter. I do love feedback.


	9. The Story of Innocence

**Title:** The Myth of Innocence  
**Author:** Catalina Royce  
**Disclaimer:** These stories are based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
**Rating:** R

**The Story of Innocence**

"Earl and Countess Delacroix and their children Lady Adaline Delacroix, and Lord Jonathon Delacroix!"

The butler-cum-steward scuttled out of the path of the nobles. His masters were very progressive – they believed in having someone answer the door for them. He also announced the guests, as well as ran the household. However, they would not forgive him the mistake of running into one of their guests.

There was an odd silence around the room, and then the nobles broke out in frantic whispers. They were talking, the butler surmised, of the pale young witch; Lady Adaline Delacroix.

She was very beautiful, the whispers said. However, although her family were the most pure-blooded known, she was the product of a by-blow with a muggle. She was tainted. She wasn't allowed to use a wand – ever. When she was first born, there had been some debate as to whether or not to allow this mudblood to practise magic with a wand. After all, she was from a powerful family.

But Queen Maeve had interrupted the debate, and stated what everyone knew – a mudblood's magic was naturally defective. So it had been decided – Adaline would not be allowed to practise magic.

Her family had stood by her through all of this, and she was accepted into polite society. It was such a shame, the whispers said, that poor Adaline was also insane.

She stood now, alone and proud, eyes surveying the room like a queen who saw no one fit to acknowledge. She was a redhead, her complexion pale – as if she'd spent most of her life indoors. She was petite, and fragile, looking like she could snap if a person laid a hand on her. Her dress was made of a deep green velvet, with silver embroidery on the hem, and an under dress of pale cream. Her hair was up in a cluster of curls, and her face was frozen in a dignified expression.

She held no illusions of who she was and what they thought of her. She knew exactly what they'd been whispering.

Adaline turned away, just as the butler called out, "Lord Thom Montague."

She vaguely registered the commotion his name brought to the nobles – perhaps he was another mudblood? But, no. This commotion was of the welcoming kind. He was one of them.

Adaline shuddered. She was tired of this life. The nobles had nothing to do but war with each other. They used magic to kill and maim and harm. They hated her, and the feeling was mutual.

Sometimes she wondered if she was as fragile as she felt.

Adaline walked toward the banquet, ignoring the clatter behind her as they rushed to Lord Thom's side. She looked toward the platters, smiling slightly as she took some pheasant. Adaline had mastered her magic as much as she could. She could call upon her magic at will now. She didn't need a wand, but, oh, how she yearned for the privilege. To be accepted as one of them would be...magical.

The redhead turned and glanced around her. Her family was in the middle of the throng, smiling and laughing. And she was on the outer edges of their existence.

They didn't understand her. She was fragile, and delicate, like a flower. They didn't understand how easy it would be to crush her, how far they'd already gotten. Sometimes she wondered why she hadn't just thrown herself out of a tower, and then she'd realise yet again why not: she was waiting for her prince to save her.

Her mother beckoned her over, smiling and chatting animatedly. It seemed she'd remembered her duty – to introduce all the family, not just the ones they wanted.

"This is my daughter, Adaline." Adaline waited for her mother to finish her spiel – Adaline's achievements, her skills, her ability to manage a household.

It never came. Instead, the pompous warlord simply asked, "Oh, and this is the mudblood, isn't she? I suppose I could find her a husband in one of my servants."

The crowd around her laughed. Adaline turned and left the room, knowing that if she didn't control herself, she could kill that man without meaning to.

She made her way to the solar above the hall. The women used it to sew, but at a feast such as this, there would be no sewing; the light was bad and the women were otherwise occupied. Confident in the knowledge that no one would be there, Adaline entered the room and unleashed her fury on the furniture. The chairs snapped, the table groaned and creaked as it slowly gave way to some invisible pressure.

Content, Adaline smiled, glancing towards the window in the wall. Horror rushed through her as she saw the silhouette of a man near the window. She gasped and rushed over to him, dropping on her knees.

"My lord, please. Please. Don't tell them." She looked fearfully toward the door, then back up at the man, who she could now identify as Lord Thom. "They'd kill me if they knew."

He bent down some and hooked his hands underneath her arms, pulling her up to stand. He looked hard at her, and sat her down on the bench near the window. Her magic hadn't touched that, instead focussing on the things nearby to her.

"If they knew...what?"

She wanted to say it. Wanted to tell someone her secret. But she couldn't trust him, and years of lying and treachery prevented her. She couldn't tell him. Adaline bit her lip, shaking her head sadly. _I can't._ She begged silently. _I can't. Just understand. I can't._

"If they knew..that you had tamed your magic? That you seemed to be as able as I to perform magic? That mudbloods weren't defective?"

She nodded, still not game to say anything. Perhaps it was just a shock to him. Perhaps that was the reason he hadn't told everyone yet.

"I won't tell. I promise." He looked at her in the moonlight. It was a quarter moon, and dark, but the light gleamed off her hair. Her eyes were brown, but in this light, they looked to have flecks of grey in them. She was so pale, and unblemished. "So pretty," he whispered. She looked at him from beneath her eyelashes, eyes disbelieving. He wondered what it would be like to be so shunned from everything that a few kind words from a stranger could put that expression into her eyes. "So wise." He murmured, his hands resting on hers.

She drew away, not trusting him. "My family would disagree with you."

"I know." He admitted baldly. His lips sank into a smile. His eyes were still roaming over her; taking in her defects, she knew. All of them had done it before, and they would do it again. It just hurt that he, who knew her biggest secret, would do the same. "In fact," he went on, "it is common knowledge that your family considers you insane. Society has treated you as such.

"Are you insane?" He asked, curiously. She didn't seem insane. She acted just like every other wellborn woman; only she had the courage and the discipline to master her magic without help.

His question seemed to echo previous thoughts. "No. I'm not insane." She didn't go into the details, didn't mention that her family had spread the rumour to cover for their social lapse.

He smiled at her answer. "Well then. Adaline Delacroix. I have a proposal for you." He watched as her face, previously so open, froze. Expression was completely wiped from her, and all that was left was a haughty shell. He realised that she'd misinterpreted his words; she thought he was going to make her his mistress. She'd have been taught her entire life that that was the best she could hope for, probably. Regardless, he went on. "You are the first witch I've met that has such dedication. You are wise, and powerful to be able to control raw magic. You are beautiful. And tomorrow, I will ask your father for permission to marry you." Her beautiful face didn't move. It was still locked in a coldness that was unnatural for such fire. "Say something." He demanded. She should be jumping around, excited. She should be flattered by such an offer. This was a once in a lifetime offer for her.

"How dare you? You think it's funny to me that no one will ever want me as a wife? That I'm defective? That I," she didn't finish, instead breaking off and burying her face in her hands. He couldn't tell if she was crying or if she was just trying to control her anger; neither was desirable.

"Lady Adaline, I promise you. I want to marry you. Wedding gown, ceremony. Everything."

She looked up; doubtful. "Really?"

"Yes." It was a hasty decision, but right nonetheless. He knew it. Besides, he'd made a snap decision, and they'd never steered him wrong. It was a gift of his.

"Why?" She snapped out, eyes hardening. She'd spent her life being called a mudblood, being teased, tormented, by his kind. Just because he said a few kind words to her didn't mean that she was going to collapse into his arms and weep fitfully in gratitude. 

His eyes bugged. "Because I want to."

"Because you want to be a rebel? To be the one who breaks the norm? Because you want to be, Lord forbid, _nice_? So that everyone will fawn over you with your pity for me, and marvel at how you let me become something to much _more_ than I was expected to be?" She was ranting now, letting out all her troubles and vexations in one long stream of consciousness. "I'll tell you something, milord. I don't need your pity. I've spent my entire life fighting against the prejudices of other people, and I've learnt how to become completely independent." 

He dismissed her scorn with his own. "I don't feel pity for _you_. I feel pity for the women in the ballroom. _They_ have no freedom. They live under the thumb of their fathers, and come to these balls to find husbands, and in turn live under the rule of _them_. You have so much freedom. Nobody restricts where you go. They-"

"_They_ all have wands."

He paused a minute, and she realised how much she'd just revealed. "If you marry me, Adaline, I'll let you use mine when no one is there. You deserve a wand." 

She loved him then. More than anything she'd ever wanted, she'd wanted to be accepted. And he just had.

**

.

**

"And what about the flowers? Do you think white? Perhaps Lilies?" 

Adaline roused herself enough to listen to her mother. "Not Lilies. They make me ill." She went back to her sewing, beginning to feel like she was trapped in the room. She couldn't stand any more of the wedding arrangements. Adaline stood up, letting her embroidery clatter to the floor, and muttered, "I must go for a walk."

Her mother and assistants looked on sadly. When Adaline was out of earshot, one of the assistants voiced her opinion. "It's such a pity the poor girl is insane."

She walked through the garden below, picking a white rose from one of the bushes. She held it up and smelt it, disappointed to realise it wasn't perfumed. A voice whispered to her from the shadows. "It doesn't smell as good as you."

Her face lit up with joy. She whirled around and leapt to hug him, uncaring of the proprieties. She loved him, more than anything she'd ever wanted. Originally, she hadn't known whether she loved him because he accepted her, or if she truly loved him. She believed it to be the latter, but she'd never know, because he'd never reject her. He'd had the opportunity, and he hadn't. He didn't hate her because of her breeding. In fact, he seemed to like her more. And although he was charismatic and handsome, he was smart. He didn't need to rely on his good looks alone.

He hugged her back, burying his face in her hair. She felt so protected, like he'd never break her. She was so safe with him. She looked up to find his powerful grey eyes smoky with an emotion she couldn't place. The look perturbed her. She licked her lips, smiling nervously up at him. He grinned at her, then his gaze rested on her mouth.

"Quickly. You must return to the wedding preparations with your mother." He whispered, then pushed her off in that direction.

She left, puzzling over the expression she'd seen in his eyes.

**

.

**

As soon as he closed the door, she knew exactly what was coming.

She'd entered his room for the same reason; she knew exactly what they were going to do. She hadn't seen him for days, and she, much as she hated it, was completely insecure as to whether or not he still loved her. Perhaps it was the poison her brother had been spilling into her ears, telling her that her beloved fiancé didn't love her. She knew now he had been trying to destroy her happiness.

He kissed her tenderly, slowly. She melted into him, feeling the heat of his body seep through her layers of fabric. She wondered perhaps if this was what love was about, this physical feeling of needing to be with him. For surely this was everlasting, eternal.

He dragged her down to lie on the floor beneath them, and she didn't care about anything, even the fact that she was consummating the marriage before the ceremony. She loved him, and wasn't that enough to excuse what they did?

His lips found her pulse. His tongue darted out, caressing her pale skin and she looked at him. He was so beautiful, so smart, and best of all, he was hers. She still didn't understand why he'd chose her three months ago, but she was going to marry this man.

She could feel his breath against her skin. She was more than happy now that the fashions today required a low bodice. His hand stroked the outside of her thigh through her dresses and petticoats. She wanted him to continue, to move inwards, to touch that central core of her that was throbbing...

Instead his hand moved down to the bottom of her skirts. So this was why the servant girls were so happy to lift their skirts for men. This feeling of wanting was so intense. His hand reached her thigh and he kissed her again. It was like opium. She felt like she was drifting and dreaming, but at the same time her body was humming with joy.

His hand touched her, and she almost cried out. He grinned at her, his face so boyish and eager, then kissed her again. She loved it, revelled in it. Didn't even notice his moving until he thrust inside her, breaking the small membrane that was her protection. That was her innocence. She screamed into his mouth, the pain racking her.

It started ebb and she closed her eyes tight, tears still quivering on the edge of her eyes. Thom looked down at her, his eyes dark with regret, then kissed her cheeks and whispered promises in her ear.

Slowly she came around, beginning to become excited about this caring man and his words. He told her about how he felt inside her, how she was so hot and tight, how she could send him over the edge just by squeezing those muscles inside her.

The thought intrigued her, and she did so, surprised to find how good it felt. All of a sudden she felt the need to move, to ease this ache inside of her. Thom looked at her and realised this, his eyes alight with satisfaction. He started to move, to thrust into her.

She whimpered as the world started to spin around her. She was the centre of the universe. Then the universe splintered before her eyes.

**

.

**

Life had never been easy for her. The redhead twirled a flower around in her hand, watching as the yellow petals spun together in a colourful wheel. In fact, she mused as she frowned, using her magic to slowly turn the flower black, she hadn't had it easy at all. Her family had been awfully judgmental of her, not understanding the delicate madness inside of her. And it was delicate. She was like this flower. Delicate. Fragile, like lace made out of spider webs.

She was happy with him, yes. And he'd truely made her come out of her shell when others were around. But...

The dreams were haunting her again. They were pounding through her brain, ignoring all her pleas for mercy, just as the madness inside ignored her family's pleas for reason. How could she know reason? She'd never known reason. Only magic, only the odd things that seemed to happen when she was upset. That was her only reason. The knowledge that she could kill, without meaning to. That was the only _reason_ that she hadn't plunged into the Kingdom of Dreams long before now.

There was a crunching sound behind her – a boot hitting dry grass. The man crouched down beside her, staring at the flower. She let out a whisper of a sigh, unhappy that she – being of dirty muggle blood – would never know the honour of a wand to use her magic. Unhappy also, that these feelings of jealousy towards her beloved could only be repressed, not forgotten.

But it was the day of her wedding, and her beloved had come to find her. He was everything she wanted in life. He could interpret every whisper, every sigh. Every moan, laugh, grumble and whimper she let out, he could interpret. "You shouldn't be here." Her voice was quiet, in deference to the pain in her head that the dreams had caused.

He sensed instinctively what the reason was, and kept his voice quiet too. "Why not?"

She almost wept at the question. Every minute apart was death for her, and he was asking her to abandon her family's wishes yet again. She was no saint, just a woman with a love so great that only murder could destroy it. "Tradition." The excuse was exactly that. An excuse.

"Tradition? It is traditional to keep your virginity, and yet, you are tainted before marriage."

The headaches were rising again. A rush of heat flared up her cheeks, shamed that he would even mention that. It was the reason her family had been so judgmental. It was the reason for this marriage. And it was the reason for the headaches. She didn't know how they were linked, but these headaches had started just after...that night. "By you."

"Yes." He didn't need to acknowledge anymore than that, instead crouching down beside her in a gesture of compassion. He'd been angry, she knew. She'd probably missed the wedding. It didn't matter. Marriage was forever, and her time as a single woman was coming to an end. Her time as a maiden had already ended. "You're bleeding."

"I know." Two simple words that melted the anger from his face. He knew what had happened. He understood her. Understood her like no one else on Earth. He was so gorgeous. So handsome. And he knew her better than she knew herself.

"Why?"

"It helped the pain. "

The man sighed. She'd been in one of her trances, obviously. She wouldn't have hurt herself otherwise. It was normal for her to have these. . .periods of lust, to want to hurt herself. He couldn't stop them; he could only support her when she fell. He alone knew the reasons for these headaches, and they were worrisome to say the least.

"Do you think," she began, "that I'll live to be one hundred?"

_No. He didn't._

His reply was serious, his voice affectionate and determined. "I'll make sure your soul will live to be one thousand."

She smiled at him, unknowingly crushing the flower in her hand. "I know, Thom. You promised me."

"I keep my promises."

**

.

**

Her mother broke her the news. 

Adaline wouldn't believe her at first, then looked in wonder at the rest of her family. Her family. The ones supposed to protect her and love her. How was this love? Denying her the man she loved? She'd given her heart and soul – her _innocence_ – to him. And now they denied her his presence.

"Where is he?" She asked quietly.

It was her mother that answered. Her beautiful, heartless mother, who preferred to say that her daughter was insane than face the scandal of actually accepting her as a person. "He has left, Adaline. Abandoned you to us. He does not want you."

"Did he say this?" 

"No." replied her father, arrogant in his certainty. "He did not need to."

The fragility inside her snapped. When her parents had decreed that because she had missed the ceremony, she could not be married to Thom, she had endured, with Thom's promises inside her. But now her family were telling her that the man she loved had left her..forever. Had abandoned her to her family.

She couldn't believe it, yet it was all so true. He had left her. Forever.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Okay, yes, I did cop out. I was struggling with this chapter so much, and there were already 3,000 words, so I just gave up and decided that I couldn't tell the whole story of these two in one chapter. It just isn't possible.

On another note, Absinthe has given me a wonderful idea. In this and every future chapter of The Myth of Innocence there will be at least one 'please'. Spot the please, review and tell me, and the first person to spot ten 'please's will have a guest character of her [or his] choice in either this fic, or one of my up and coming stories. Of course, if you want to barter for my affection, all you need to do is review.

Much credit for this chapter goes to my new and wonderful beta, Nicole. She's a lifesaver.

Finally, it's my belief that prejudice against muggles and 'mudbloods' didn't come from nowhere -- it wasn't just some irrational though someone had. I think that at some point, it was accepted as society's norm: A Mudblood was inferior. And the time I'm writing in is that period.

As always, read, review, and constructive criticism is always welcome.


	10. Vera

**Title:** The Myth of Innocence  
**Author:** Catalina Royce  
**Disclaimer:** These stories are based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
**Rating:** R

**Vera**

Virginia slammed the book closed. Madame Pince shot her a dirty look, her vulture like face pursed into a disapproving frown. Her bun was held in place tightly, the skin at her temples pulling slightly. Virginia had only ever seen that effect once before. It was achieved through the rigorous use of hairpins. Sharp, pointy objects that Madame Pince would no doubt use on Virginia if she made such a noise again.

Still, she hadn't slammed the book on purpose; the thing spooked her. She was only halfway through, but she didn't need to read it, she already knew what would happen. She didn't know how she knew, but the knowledge was there, nonetheless.

Even the cover was starting to scare her. It was so perfect, so unmarred by the passage of time. It was as if no one had ever touched the book bar her. The pages weren't dog-eared nor crumpled. The cover hadn't faded, and the engraving was as silver as the day it had been made.

Virginia pressed her hands against the wooden table, trying to calm her shaky nerves. There was nothing wrong, she promised herself. She couldn't repress the stories, however, of books the Ministry had confiscated. Or of Tom Riddle. There was an easy decision then. She wouldn't finish the book. Whatever happened, she wouldn't finish it. She knew how it turned out, anyway, so there was no harm done.

Her next class was about to start. She hadn't even started reading Charon, but she could do that later. It was a research assignment, after all. And she'd set it herself; there were no teachers involved. What did it matter if she got a bit behind schedule?

That thought in mind, she set off to potions, glad it was only a single lesson. She was a few minutes early; Snape hadn't arrived at the dungeon yet. The rest of the class was milling around outside, though in two distinct groups. Slytherins versus Gryffindors. Draco and Blaise seemed to be in the centre of the Slytherin group, the Dream Team were in the centre of the Gryffindors. There'd been an argument, apparently, because both sides were looking shocked and outraged, although the Slytherins seemed more shocked and smug.

Virginia stood in the very centre, afraid of what it might do if she favoured one side over another. Two pairs of very cold eyes settled on her; Draco's and Ron's. "Well," Draco's voice broke the silence. "If it isn't the littlest Weasel. Tell me, Weasel. How _did _ you manage to get into this class? Slept your way in, I presume."

There was another ripple of outrage. Hermione was shocked. Harry was angry. Ron was furious. Blaise was ready to kill Draco. And still he didn't let up. "What's wrong, Weasel? Gnome got your tongue? Why the annoyed face? Are your second hand knickers in a knot?" He sneered at her, lip curling. Virginia's face was creased into an indignant, furious look of hate. She didn't understand what she'd done to deserve this treatment. She thought they'd declared a truce. Hadn't they? After all, she'd slept the night in his bed. He'd treated her fine this morning, if with the same brusqueness he'd always shown her. So why the sudden attack of viciousness?

Ron had let out a roar of outrage at that remark and lunged at Malfoy, just as Snape entered the corridor. He took in the scene and in an unruffled voice, stated "Fifty points from Gryffindor and a week's detention, Weasley. I'll not have you fighting in my class." 

Hermione muttered something to Harry ("But we aren't _in_ his class at the moment.") and Snape paused to look at her, eyes sweeping up and down her frame in a dismissive gesture. "You wanted to share something with us, Miss Granger?" 

She shook her head, muttering, "No sir."

"Good." He entered the room without another glance.

The rest of the class followed obediently. Virginia just stared, shell shocked at what had just happened. Pansy flicked a glance at her then muttered in a slightly pitying undertone, "Don't worry about Draco. He got a letter during breakfast." Her tone seemed to say that that should explain everything. And perhaps it did, to someone who knew him.

She entered quietly behind the rest of them, sitting closer to the Gryffindors than she usually would. She'd realised something in those few minutes; until Draco accepted her, the rest of the Slytherins wouldn't. They'd pity her, perhaps – if that were possible for a Slytherin – but they'd never accept her.

Feeling muted and slightly despondent, she tuned into what Snape was saying. "—A relatively easy potion, which you should all have mastered by now, considering it is OWL level. I might remind you that the Draft of Peace needs 10 minutes to simmer before testing. Therefore you have 40 minutes to make your potion." He waved a hand in an unusually flowery gesture. "Proceed."

The main ingredient used in the potion was the essence of Hellebore for its ability to clear out 'invading energies' from the mind. The essence was usually provided in bottles, because the flower itself was poisonous. Virginia jumped when she heard Malfoy's voice call out to the Professor. "Professor, there's no Essence of Hellebore here. May I go and get some from the student's cupboard?" After being granted permission, Draco stalked over to the student's cupboard, his face alight with some unholy, restless energy.

He looked through the shelves, feeling the weight of the small vial of Essence of Hellebore in his pocket. There were more vials in the storeroom, of course, but he merely pushed those to the side, out of the easy range of the eye.

Seconds later, he walked back out again, his face schooled into a puzzled frown. "There was none there, Professor. Perhaps you have some in your private stores?"

Virginia looked up, along with the rest of the class. They all knew that Snape's private stores were strictly out of reach. What was Draco Malfoy planning?

Snape nodded and stood up to unlock his cupboard. Draco followed him willingly through the gloomy classroom, trying not to let the smirk play on his face. Professor Snape stood back and allowed Draco to pick up the vial. "Here it is." Draco announced for the classroom at large. He held the vial up to the light and returned to his seat, smiling maliciously, careful not to let anyone see the label on the glass vial: _Veritaserum. Use only with Ministry of Magic approval._

He switched the Essence of Hellebore in his pocket with the Veritaserum, and continued making his potion.

**

.

**

Virginia had a troubled little frown on her face, and her lip jutted out into what most would describe as a pout. "I don't like it," She announced.

Blaise chuckled and took a sip of his Pumpkin juice, taking care not to knock over the goblet of gravy beside it. He ignored her six-year-old tone and took a bite of the roast lamb Hogwarts had served up for lunch. There was a dark green tablecloth on the table, and the tables were laden with roasts, gravy and vegetables. Blaise loved it. Roast had been his favourite meal since the first time he'd been to his Aunt Narcissa's house for dinner. He pitied the woman, to some extent, but she (or rather, her house elves) made very good roast lamb. It was a pleasant break from the rich sauces and heavy dishes served at his house.

"Did you hear me?" She demanded, annoyance in her eyes. "I said, I don't like it!"

He took the bait. "Don't like what?"

She bit her lip, looking adorable as she worried over whether to say it in such a public forum. "The way Malfoy's been acting." It was true. Malfoy had been acting oddly all day. She was growing rather concerned for him, actually. Her face was earnest, eyes wide as she tried to convey how willing she would be to help Malfoy out.

Blaise burst into laughter at the sight of her expression. He looked away and calmed himself down, then made the mistake of looking at her again. A smirk played on his lips as he tried to keep the laughter back. "Oh?"

"Yes."

He chuckled again, and she felt a pang of annoyance that he was still laughing at her. "Look, Frecks, I know that he annoyed you with his comments this morning, but you have to understand. He got a letter today." Once again, she was supposed to know what the hell that meant, and once again she had no clue. Her face clouded over, and she chewed her roast lamb thoughtfully.

Something clicked inside her. Blaise regarded her with an amused expression, knowing her next question would finally get her the explanation she wanted. "Who was the letter from?"

"His father." 

"His father?" About to indulge her curiosity, she leaned closer and to ask another question when Draco interrupted, his hand clamping down on her neck. There was a brief pressure, and then it was released; Draco had wedged himself in between her and Blaise. 

The blonde had started picking food off her plate with a spare fork he'd borrowed from somewhere. She didn't mind; she wasn't going to eat it anyway. She didn't even worry about how out of character he was behaving, he'd been doing so all day.

"Whose father?" The male in question asked, then pointed over to Virginia's goblet of Pumpkin Juice. "May I please have a sip?" His manners had come from nowhere. She didn't realise he was on the very best of behaviour so that he could manipulate her the way he wanted.

Draco took a sip of the juice, cradling the goblet in his hands. Both Virginia and Blaise were distracted enough not to notice what his hands were doing. They'd uncapped the small vial of Veritaserum, were dropping three drops into her Pumpkin Juice.

"We..ah..we were talking about..ah..er..Potter's father." She blushed, the colour running straight up her cheeks, and, Draco noticed, down her chest. He wondered idly just how far down that blush would run.

"Oh, and what about Potter's father?" He replaced the goblet on the table just in her reach. She did what every other normal person did to stall when they were nervous – took a sip. And another. And a third.

Her face went slack.

Smirking, Draco stood up, pulling Virginia along with him. "We have to go, Blaise. I hope you can excuse us."

Blaise took in the scene, from Virginia's involuntarily slack face – always a sure indication of Veritaserum – to Draco's smug triumph. "You bastard," he whispered.

"You've always known it." 

**

.

**

He sat her on the bed, not bothering to secure her hands to the four-poster. He grinned maliciously and kissed her forehead, then closed the door to the dorms, soundproofing the room. "How much do you hate me for this, Virginia?"

She opened her mouth, then closed it, opened it again, accepting the inevitable. "I don't. I would have done the same."

He glowered at her. Not the answer he wanted. Still, truthful, nonetheless. "Tell me," he said, enjoying his feeling of power. He was arrogant, he knew, but he had every right to be. He'd bested her at every turn. So why did he feel like scum for doing this to her? No matter. "Why did you suddenly turn Slytherin? Why this _miraculous_ change?"

She took a deep breath. And another. Her face closed over in pain. Her body started shaking. She was trying to fight the potion. Her eyes were pleading for him to let her go. But he couldn't. Instead he waited.

She gave up. "It wasn't miraculous. It had been coming for a long time. It was because of me and...and Ginny."

"You and Ginny? Tell me everything."

She fought it again. This Ginny must have been special to her, if she fought it so hard. Her body was racked with shudders, then Virginia spoke. "Just before Ginny's first year, she went to Flourish and Blotts, for school books. While there, Lucius Malfoy slipped a diary into one of her books. It was the diary of Tom Marvolo Riddle. Tom Riddle is Voldemort."

Draco knew that already. It was the reason he'd eventually joined with Blaise. Tom Riddle was a half-blood. Draco didn't mind mudbloods much as he often implied, but he couldn't stomach the thought of a Pureblood bowing and cowering in fear of a _mudblood._

"They started writing to each other, and Ginny-"

"You." He interrupted her, so there would be no mistakes.

"Not me. Ginny. She started giving away her soul to Tom. Eventually, he started giving his back to her. But there was a period in between, where she'd given it away, and didn't get any back. Then I was created. My name is Virginia. I came into existence because there must be a certain amount of soul in a person at all times. Otherwise, they become like the Demented. When Tom Riddle gave his soul to her, he fed it through me. I grew stronger. When Riddle was defeated, I should have died a natural death. But I didn't. By that time, there was too much of me, and I was too determined to live. Ginny was sent to St. Mungo's for treatment, and 6 months later, I knew I was there to stay."

"What are you saying?" He looked around the four-poster, glad now that he'd silenced the room. He'd curtained off the bed, and it was darkly lit. Still, he could see her clearly, could tell the she wasn't able to lie.

"There are two people who live in this body. Myself and Ginny. Recently, Ginny gave up and became dormant." She was struggling again. She hated to betray Ginny. "And I became dominant."

"Why do you want to become a Death Eater?"

"I don't, not really. But there's nothing else to do. I can't join Dumbledore's side. I wish I could stay neutral, but I can't."

Draco made a snap decision; confident it was the right one. From what she'd blurted out, Blaise had been right. She _would_ be an asset, and he could be confident of her wish to stay completely neutral. "Virginia, I have a proposition for you."

She nodded, mouth closed. As long as he didn't ask her for anything, she didn't have to say anything.

"Blaise and I are the leaders of a small group of renegades. Rebels, dissenters, nonconformists, whatever you wish to call us. We have no formal name – and it's better that way. We're made up of mainly Death Eater's children who have seen what it does to their parents and have no wish to continue in the family tradition. Some of us, like myself and Blaise, have been initiated as Death Eaters, but have not yet been given the mark, and we're thankful for that. Recently, we've been trying to find someone to help us with Occlumency lessons." Draco took a breath. "I'd like you to join us, Virginia. Blaise was going to ask you, but I protested, and then you expressed a wish to join the Death Eaters."

In spite of the anger Virginia had towards Draco for playing this trick on her, she had the ridiculous urge to grin. Her friend – her _best friend_ – was not a Death Eater. He was exactly like her. He was exactly what she'd unconsciously been looking for the entire time!

Later, Virginia would think over what an idiot she would be, and grin in shame. She wouldn't be able to believe how stupid she'd been.

At that present moment, however, Virginia had no thoughts. She was just incredibly happy to have peace of mind about her friend. So she did the stupid thing she was going to regret.

She kissed him.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Oh, I had so much fun writing this chapter! The next chapter was just as fun, too. I hope you all enjoy reading it. The chapter title is latin for 'truth'. I've always been partial to the word, heh. Remember to spot the please. Oh, and Merry Christmas to you all! I hope you you all get plot bunnies for Christmas!


	11. Truth Under a Façade

**Title:** The Myth of Innocence  
**Author:** Catalina Royce  
**Disclaimer:** These stories are based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
**Rating:** R

**Truth Under a Façade**

The kiss didn't last long. And for a Malfoy and the new 'bad ass' of the school, it was remarkably chaste. Virginia pulled back a second later, looking slightly baffled and disappointed. "Oh, well, I guess..." She coughed and looked away.

There was an awkward silence, then Draco asked tenderly, "What's wrong?"

She cursed the damned Veritaserum, and Draco's advantage over her. "I guess I always thought kissing would be..better."

It was with shock that Draco realised two things. The first was that he was Virginia's first kiss. The second was that she was disappointed with the kiss! "It usually is," he whispered, a smirk playing over his face.

"Oh. It's me then?" He could only describe her face as crushed. No woman liked to believe she was undesirable, and Virginia had absolutely no experience with men – and what men thought of her. She wouldn't know that he thought her anything but undesirable; the tightening in his lower stomach was evidence of that.

"Actually, Kitten, it's that fact that the kiss was barely more than a peck." He drawled his answer out, eyes slowly sweeping over her. His pride chafed that a woman wouldn't appreciate his kissing – and other abilities – and damned if he was going to let her ruin his reputation.

"Oh. What's the difference?"

He couldn't believe they'd gotten into this discussion. He couldn't believe he was getting _aroused_ from this discussion. "It's hard to describe," he whispered, his voice slightly deeper. "I'd have to show you at the same time." Her eyes softened and dropped to his mouth. She nibbled on her bottom lip, indecisive as to whether or not to take the plunge. She knew what kissing him would mean, what kissing him would eventually lead to. Today, tomorrow, a month from now; eventually they'd end up in bed together. And not in the purely platonic way they'd been sleeping together, either.

She took a step towards him, eyes focused on his mouth. "Teach me," she whispered. Her chocolate eyes were giving him permission to take this as far as he wanted to – as far as he dared.

He was glad now he'd soundproofed the room.

He sat her on the bed, then resting beside her. "First thing is the peck," he instructed. "Which is what you just did to me before. You seem to have that down pat." He grinned at her, taking in her hair tumbling around her shoulders, her eyes almost feverish with excitement. "After the peck comes the pash." He felt a wave of heat run up his cheeks, and realised he was blushing. _Blushing_. Of all the embarrassing things to do, he had to blush. But he'd never actually _explained_ how to have sex, and all that involved. He'd just done it.

He shrugged mentally. He placed a finger under her chin and lifted her head, then leant in and kissed her lips softly. She sighed – whether in impatience or happiness, he didn't know – and he took advantage of that, slipping his tongue to brush inside her mouth. She gasped in surprise; she really was an innocent.

He chuckled and kissed her again, and this time she responded to him, sliding her arms around his neck and drawing him closer. She was reluctant to continue when she obviously knew nothing about what to do, but decided just to follow his lead.

He grinned against her lips. "Who would have thought that you were so innocent? Not that I mind, of course," he reassured her. "It'll be a change – and an honour – to be your first."

He kissed her, and she was lost in the sensation of it. He was right; kissing was a lot better than a peck, and a lot different. If she'd known that it was so pleasant, she would have started a long time ago.

His comment registered on her conscious, and she pulled away from him. "What makes you think that?"

"Hmm?" He asked, still distracted.

"That I'm an innocent."

He grinned, his teeth flashing at her. He looked marvellous in this light – all ice and shadows, his hair mussed from their 'lesson'. "Virginia, darling," he drawled, "You haven't even been kissed before. Anyone could tell that."

Her face closed over, worried and tense. Her eyebrows drew together into a frown. "That doesn't necessarily mean I'm a virgin. Actually, I'm not a virgin."

_"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU AREN'T A VIRGIN?"_ He yelled. He seemed to take it the same way Ron would have, had Ron ever found out. She didn't understand his annoyance. He'd screwed other girls who weren't, so why was she the exception?

"I've had sex."

"Who-" A tapping on the door interrupted him. She and peeked outside, surprised to see Errol, wings flapping feverishly as he struggled to stay afloat. His feathers were ruffled and sticking out oddly, and clasped in his feet was a scarlet envelope. Virginia winced, then grabbed the letter. Errol flew off, not even bothering to refresh himself. It was evident to Virginia at least how very stifling the Slytherin dorms were. Idly, she wondered how Errol had gotten in, but didn't bother to mull over what was probably a very simple explanation.

Her face was set in a grimace, and she was holding the Howler between thumb and forefinger, arm extended. She and Ginny both hated Howlers; had been lucky enough not to have received one before now, and she wasn't looking forward to listening to this one, either.

"Where do I put it?"

Jaw clenched, a muscle in his cheek ticking, he pointed to his bedside table, a mahogany wonder. It was beautiful, and, hopefully, flame resistant. She set it down gently, and then carefully opened the envelope. Molly Weasley's voice echoed through the dorm.

"VIRGINIA ARNICA WEASLEY! I'M ABSOLUTELY _DISGUSTED_...LETTER FROM RON, TELLS US THAT YOU'RE CONSORTING WITH A SLYTHERIN...DIDN'T BRING YOU UP LIKE THAT...**DRACO MALFOY**."

Virginia winced as Molly's voice – so loud that she wondered if the silencing charm would work – shrieked her fury. Draco smirked and Virginia looked down, embarrassed. The absolute volume of the voice echoed around the room, drowning out half the letter. 

"...FATHER'S ENEMY...SO DISAPPOINTED...WAIT TILL I GET A HOLD OF YOU... **DRACO MALFOY!!!**" There was a sigh, still magnified by a hundred, and then Molly said in a normal – albeit booming – voice, "We're very proud of you for the potions work. But if I hear ONE MORE WORD..." the rest of the threat was cut off as the echoes bounced around the stone room. The envelope burst into flames.

Draco's drawl cut into the sudden silence. "It's a good thing we aren't consorting, then, isn't it Virginia? I'd have to be afraid for my life, between the Dumb Duo, The Dream Team and your mother. Perhaps you should warn your lover."

She guessed, correctly, that he was referring to the Twins, Harry, Ron and Hermione. However, his last remark had her incensed. "I don't need to," she retorted caustically. "He wouldn't rightly murder himself, would he?"

_"POTTER?"_ Draco was apoplectic. He looked ready to murder her right there and then. Perhaps the silencing charm wasn't such a good idea, after all.

"Yes, Potter."

"When?" He'd gone beyond furious. She understood now why most people feared the Malfoy's. He was cold with rage; so far gone he could probably kill without a second thought. Perhaps she'd better explain herself.

"I...it wasn't me." Her tone was placating, eyes pleading. "It was Ginny, although that doesn't really excuse it. Last year, near the end. On..on the anniversary of Sirius' death. Harry got drunk, so he wouldn't have to face the memories. And he said some things to her. Things that she construed to mean 'I love you.'"

She paused, eyes bitter at the memories of Ginny's foolishness, and the pain that it had caused them both. Harry had been drunk, and not at all gentle. When the pain was too much for Ginny, she'd called up Virginia to deal with it, retreating like she'd always done. Afterwards, she'd been crushed that Harry hadn't loved her; had, in fact, used her.

"He'd said things like, 'You know what I love about you,' and she read it wrong." Virginia shrugged, her actions belying the shame the memory brought to her. She had a lot of pride, and being used went against all she'd come to mean. "The next morning, Harry corrected her misapprehensions and went on his way. He was very nice about it, of course. Felt really terrible, actually, although he didn't say anything to Ron or Hermione." 

Draco was silent, so Virginia, in her nervousness, started to babble. "I mean, it wasn't exactly a great start to the whole sex thing, but most girl's first times aren't great anyway, so I'm not exactly unusual, in that respect."

He accepted that explanation remarkably calmly, making a note to himself to repay Potter for hurting Blaise's friend. He dropped the topic for the moment. "Can you control Ginny's actions?"

"Ginny's mind, or body? I'm controlling her body now, aren't I?" She sighed and rubbed her temples. Even to her, their co-existence was confusing. "We can fight over who is dominant, and the dominant person controls this body. Ginny's always been better in a fight, because she's been in this body longer; she had a firmer hold on it. When she's dominant, I can only observe and comment to her. In her weak moments, or when she wants me to, I can take over with force – but it drains both of us, and we don't need that."

She started pacing around the dorm. Perhaps it was the Veritaserum, although quite a while had passed, what with all the interruptions. How long did Veritaserum last, anyway? But her thoughts had drifted away from her. Where had she been? She hadn't been this scatterbrained in, well, ever.

Perhaps it was the Veritaserum, but all of a sudden, she had a person who would listen to what she'd been bottling up for years, and so she took advantage of it, spilling out all her thoughts and theories of the past few years. "You see, what Ginny and I mean is that it's possible to _create_ souls, and the Tom incident means you can _ferry_ souls. You understand what this signifies?" She didn't wait for him to answer, just kept pacing and talking. "It means that if a person could find a way to harness their souls, they could...body jump. They could, in essence, stay alive forever. Immortality, and eternal youthfulness – if they changed bodies enough. No one's ever done it, because it's _evil_ – taking over another person's life that is – but imagine if you could. I've been working on this theory for years, you see, and I think I'm almost done. I'd never attempt it, I'd just want to know you _could_."

Completing her rant, she slumped over onto Blaise's bed and burst into tears.

**

.

**

"I hate women," Draco informed Blaise as he entered the room. "And where the hell have you been?" Draco's tone was terse, his ruffled appearance a testimony to Virginia's emotional storm.

"I've been in the library, researching the effects of Veritaserum, ever since I realised what you'd done. I wanted to be prepared, especially considering how much you hate her. Where is she, by the way? ..And, why do you hate women?"

Draco shifted uncomfortably, refusing to meet Blaise's eye. "What are the effects of Veritaserum? And how long does it last?"

"Depends on the person, apparently, and how many secrets they have. If they don't have many secrets, then it'll be over quickly. If they do..." he trailed off, and ran a hand through his hair. Draco and Blaise were remarkably alike, in both mannerisms and speech. They'd been brought up to the same rules and expectations, and their friendship was close enough for their quirks to rub off on each other. "Anyway, the signs that the Veritaserum storm is wearing off is usually characterised by mood swings, manic behaviour – pacing, inability to stay still – sometimes ranting, and, in worst cases, a severe form of apathy that can last for days." He cleared his throat, and the blonde boy knew there was more. "There have also be cases of arousal, where the victim has basically, erm, jumped someone's bones."

"Ah. That would explain the crying, then." Draco muttered. He left out the kiss he and Virginia had shared. The Veritaserum was a very reasonable explanation as to why she'd been so eager to kiss him. It didn't explain his reaction, though.

"The- what the hell did you do to her, Draco?" Blaise stood up, his dark face flushed with anger. "Where is she?"

"Oh, she's fine. I left her with Pansy. And she's joined our group of friends."

Blaise ignored the latter statement and concentrated on the first. "Pansy! Are you insane? She hates Virginia." Blaise stormed up to the girls' dorms, ready to be Virginia's knight in shining armour. Draco followed behind, feeling suitably chastened. After all, he'd given Virginia enough to deal with today without saddling her with someone who hated her. He just hadn't realised that they did.

They heard voices as they neared the Seventh-year girls' dorms. One was slightly quavering, as if they'd been crying. The boys could identify that as Virginia's. The other two were indignant, although Pansy's seemed to be gossipy. "Yeah, Malfoy's a bastard, always has been. I've known him since we were little – we've been betrothed since we entered Hogwarts. It's amusing with him around, though. Everyone bows to your every whim. And since he's always pretty much acknowledged me as _his_, and everyone's known about the engagement, what I want was always translated to mean what _he_ wants. But I still can't believe he'd go that far."

There was a slight sniffle. "Well he did."

Millicent Bulstrode cut in. "He got a letter from his father today, though, which means you have to allow for moodiness."

Out in the hall, Blaise sent an amused look to Draco. Draco flushed. "I am _not_ moody," he whispered in an emphatic tone.

Blaise just raised an eyebrow and knocked on the door. "Virginia?" He opened the door.

Millicent, Pansy and Virginia were lounging on Pansy's bed, looking like the picture of innocence. For all the bad rap that the Dream Team gave her, Pansy wasn't that horrid looking. She was blonde and blue eyed, with an innocent quality that managed to deceive many people. It was her attitude that gave her the pug-faced look. Millicent, however, was as ugly as a troll; she hadn't changed since her first year, when she walked in looking more like Crabbe and Goyle than a female. Her hair had grown a little, but other than that, they could have been brothers.

"Draco!" Pansy exclaimed, her face alight with malicious joy. "We were just talking about you."

"I know." His face was set in a glower, stormy grey eyes narrowed. "I heard." He straightened up, letting his expression fall back into its normal icy demeanour. "I need to borrow Virginia, if you don't mind?"

"Oh, not at all," she giggled. "But.." she paused and raised her hand, continuing in a delicate voice. "I do wonder if it's perhaps..prudent..for Virginia to be sleeping in the boys' dorms. She can always sleep with us, Draco. It'd certainly cause less fuss."

Both Draco and Blaise objected to that idea. Virginia looked at them both and shrugged, then excused herself. When they were in the hallway, Blaise pulled her aside. "Look, Frecks, I think I should warn you about Pansy. She and Millicent are in our little _clique_," he deliberately emphasised the word so that she'd understand they were talking about their group of renegades, "however, Pansy looks out for Pansy and no one else. It would give her great pleasure for you to end up hating us."

Virginia nodded, and Draco interrupted the scene with his two cents. "Don't call her Frecks. It doesn't suit her."

"Because you know her, oh, so well." His tone was incredibly sarcastic.

"I do now."

Blaise didn't like that answer at all. Virginia was his friend, and he should know her best. But because of the damned stunt Draco'd pulled, that right was taken away from him. He glared at Draco's back and followed them into the common room.

* * *

_Author's Note:_ So much for not having many Author's Notes, hey? I've scrapped the 'please' competition, because no one was participating, heh. Anyway, this chapter has been my favorite chapter so far. It was so much fun to write the kiss and the mood swings, and I was laughing through it all. I hope you all liked the chapter. It would really mean a lot if you reviewed and told me what you thought of this chapter; I love it so much.


	12. Doubt And Decisions

**Title:** The Myth of Innocence  
**Author:** Catalina Royce  
**Disclaimer:** These stories are based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
**Rating:** R

**

Doubts And Decisions

**

It had been three weeks and two days since she'd split with the Gryffindors. For some reason, the Golden Trio hadn't approached her, and she wasn't going to push her luck by approaching them. She was just thankful that there had been no more Howlers from Molly. The incident had been trying, especially when combined with the Veritaserum.

Since then, Draco had been scrupulously avoiding her, and she knew the reason; he was ashamed of what they'd done. Granted, they hadn't done much but she was in essence a Weasley, and he wouldn't ever consort with the likes of her, not willingly, at least. And then, of course, there was the fact that she wasn't a virgin. She didn't understand it, but she was dirty to him; another man had soiled her.

Perhaps it was just that she wasn't a good kisser?

The thought made her low spirits plummet even further. It didn't help that the object of her desire just walked into the Common Room and sat on the old fashioned Fainting Couch next to Pansy. Virginia turned away, her face creased into an upset frown. Perhaps there really _was_ something going on with Pansy and Draco?

This was ridiculous! Why was she obsessing over it? She didn't even _like_ Draco, for goodness sakes! He was an arrogant, rude prick! She didn't need him. But...she sighed. He was a _really_ good kisser.

Trying to ignore her feelings, she casually glanced around the Common Room. Blaise was nowhere in sight, so there was no one to distract her from her inspection of the Malfoy heir. His face was schooled into a calm expression – you could get more feeling out of a rock. His hair was neatly in place in a way that made her ache to ruffle it up. And his eyes were just the colour of steel.

_Why_ did he have to look so good?

The arrival of Blaise distracted her, thank god. She turned to him, a smile illuminating her face. Blaise hugged her, grinning from ear to ear. Across the room, a face broke into a glare.

_Why_ did she have to look so good? Draco asked himself, almost letting out a growl of frustration. She'd left her hair down again – did she ever do anything else? – and it was such a deep colour in the gloomy space. She had a classic peaches-and-cream complexion. She was short compared to his height – she must only be 5'6 at the most.

She hadn't even approached him since the Veritaserum incident. She'd even moved into the seventh year girls' dorms. He should be thankful, really. Every time her thought about her, his stomach started tightening and he could feel his blood pumping in his veins. His fantasies about her had kept him up at night.

But he knew that she didn't feel the same way about him. She barely looked at him. She was embarrassed, he knew. But the way she had acted in their dorms was something else. Most of the girls he'd been to bed with had been so reserved. They'd never be so happy to..trust him. Was that what this was all about? That she trusted him?

It was too bad that that abandon had been cause by the Veritaserum. She'd barely even looked at him since then, so he knew she wasn't interested. He sighed quietly and excused himself, sending a look to Pansy as they parted, then adjusted his watch.

The others would know that they were meeting today. The wristwatch was a magic one, with things like "Time for School", "The Train is about to leave" and "working" on it. On the side, there was a button he could press that would alert them all when they wanted to meet. Then they all excused themselves from what they were doing and met in the specified place.

He'd never admit it, but he'd gotten the idea from Granger's coins in fifth year. When that Ravenclaw had snitched on Potter and the Weasel, she'd shown Umbridge the coin. He, in turn had gotten hold of it. It seemed to work just like Voldemort's Dark Mark, only _that_ was permanent. This was a much more viable solution.

He paced silently toward Blaise and Virginia, his face schooled into a mask. Blaise was showing Virginia a new polish for a broomstick – and if that sentence wasn't loaded with innuendo, then he'd be telling Virginia to polish his wand for him.

Blaise acknowledged Draco by a simple adjustment of his body stance, thus including him in the conversation. Draco waited patiently for a few minutes, then said, "I have better things to be doing. We're meeting at lunch." And proceeded to calmly walk off.

_Asshole,_ she thought. _Why would I be interested in someone like that?_

**

.

**

They met at lunch just as planned. Blaise had taken Virginia's wrist and pulled her along behind him, and she had the quick and vicious thought of 'manhandling' before she once again heard the growl of hunger from her stomach.

She wanted lunch, dammit! She didn't want to go to a meeting with..._him_. Speak of the devil, he appeared just as they rounded the corner. He looked just as good as he had this morning, and she could have cursed him for it. So what if he looked like sex personified when he stared at her with that intensity? He didn't want to _do_ anything with her. He'd made that abundantly clear. So why was she obsessing over this?

They met in the front steps of Hogwarts, then traced their way out to the beech tree. There was a group of four already standing there; seven in the group when you included her. Millicent and Pansy were the few she already knew of, but two surprised her; Vincent Crabbe and Derek Brotise. Crabbe surprised her because he'd managed to disconnect himself from his twin. And Brotise was in her grade.

Blaise intercepted her look of surprise and hastened to explain before they reached the group. "Crabbe believes in looking after his back. Originally, he thought he could do that by sucking up to Draco, but in time he realised how bad it was for his perception of self. He's really quite a deep thinker, he just prefers not to talk. Derek's here because he came to us. He found out about the group and demanded to be allowed in. We would have refused but we found him a month later in the hallway all swollen and puffy because of a run in with Goyle."

"So why isn't Goyle here?"

"Because," Draco interrupted, "Goyle is a thug. He hurts for the joy of hurting people, not for necessity. He's too capable of betraying us to be considered." He strode forward, every inch the commanding leader. "Is there any sign of detection?"

This question seemed to be a ritual, because everyone knew when their turn to answer was. Only Derek answered affirmatively.

Draco's tone turned sharp and vicious. He was ready to protect his own. "Where?"

Derek simply inclined his head toward Virginia. "The fact that she's been seen around you is raising a lot of suspicion. If it goes on with no plausible reason for it – if you aren't seen to be friendly – they'll start snooping. It won't take them long to find out the truth."

Draco nodded, his face terse. "I'll find a solution," he muttered. Virginia tuned out at the mention of potions used to hide people – she thought it slightly ironic that she'd just made an Invisibility Potion. Instead she looked around her surroundings. It was a nice autumn day, and the Beech tree they were standing under had lost most of its leaves. The sun seemed to be making an effort to shine; it was glinting off the lake. There was a slight breeze that ruffled through their hair.

It would be the perfect day to be a child. To mess around and whirl and whirl until they fell down laughing. _Until_ who_ fell down laughing?_ She admitted the truth. She and Draco fell down. 

Her thoughts were interrupted by Pansy. "Can you do it, Virginia?"

She glanced at the group, feeling a little foolish that she'd been caught in her daydream.. "Sorry, I wasn't paying attention."

The group let out a collective groan of exasperation. Derek let out an expletive. Draco narrowed his eyes. "We don't have time for wandering minds, Virginia. Either you're in this one hundred percent, or you're out."

She didn't understand his motivations. Her eyes challenged his, her gaze defiant. Anger flared up inside her, making her dark eyes flash. An unexpected gust of wind hit her in the face, blowing her hair. She was haughty and cool. She looked like a goddess.

Draco understood the danger. "Please excuse us. Blaise, Pansy, I'll need you to stay. Virginia and I need to discuss some things."

Millicent, Derek and Crabbe left silently. Draco strode away from them, leaving Virginia to trail behind him. When he turned around she paused. He was agitated – scared? – but he was keeping it under control.

He had a scar on his hand, she noticed with surprise, running in the soft flesh between index finger and thumb. It was a blemish on an otherwise perfect body. His robes were ruffled and his hair was perfect. She wondered how that had occurred, then dismissed the thought.

"We need to talk, Virginia." He sat down and leaned back, the grass crunching underneath his palms. He looked defeated. Worn out. As if he'd spent his life battling unseen forces of evil that most people couldn't even imagine. Knowing his family, he probably had. "Derek was completely correct. You are going to arouse suspicion, especially when we aren't seen on friendly terms. Thus, there's only one decision."

He gestured to Blaise and Pansy. "Virginia and I are now dating. Please see to any arrangements that will need to be made. Like sleeping arrangements." He chose to ignore how revealing that statement was, and pretended he had no motive but keeping their group safe. Getting her into his bed was just a part of that method. Just because he wanted her there was no reason to inhibit his actions one way or another.

A flare of triumph swelled from within him.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Well, I didn't particularly like this chapter, but my wonderful beta, Nicole, said it was fine. [I also forgot to credit her in the last chapter; Nicole actually came up with the title for the chapter.] Hopefully I'll be happier with the next chapter. If you'd like to be notified of updates, e-mail me at **strawberryhope@hotmail.com** [spam me and I block you, though, heh.] And finally, I am considering the idea of creating a website for my fanfiction, along with the old versions of some of my works. I've dug up the first three chapters of the original Myth of Innocence, which, as most of you know, is very different to the current version. Anyway, tell me what you think of the idea, and I'll see if I'm determined enough to do so.


	13. Just a Hunch

**Title:** The Myth of Innocence  
**Author:** Catalina Royce  
**Disclaimer:** These stories are based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
**Rating:** R

**

Just A Hunch

**

Virginia waited until Blaise and Pansy had left them alone. By that time her temper was simmering. So what if she'd wanted to take whatever they had further? It wasn't up to him to state that they were going out. It wasn't his decision.

"How dare you?" She asked, acutely aware that she sounded like the heroine in a trashy romance novel. She started fiddling with her robe, gathering herself up into a state of agitated fury. "How dare you just..just _decide_ that we're going out!"

"How else do you expect me to counter the interest about us? By telling them that we hate each other? Why are you hanging around if you hate me, hmm?" The last sentence seemed to come out more harshly than the rest, and Draco winced at the telling note in his voice.

Apparently Virginia had heard it, too, because she hesitated in her answer. "Draco, I don't hate you. I can even understand why you are ashamed of what we did." As she sighed, a bleak look came into her eyes. "I don't like it, but I can accept it."

"We both know, Virginia, that that only happened because you were under Veritaserum." His face was harsh, and Virginia looked into his eyes for a second, and then away. Draco realized what she was saying, and almost laughed. "Virginia, if I was ashamed of doing something with a Weasley, why would I let the school know that we were involved?"

A pang of alarm shot through him as her eyes filled up with tears. "You didn't have any choice. I wish you'd just decided to," she choked on the words, her brown eyes shimmering with moisture. "But you didn't."

Draco's face broke into a tender smile, and he pulled on her hand to bring her to sit beside him. "Virginia. I decided that not only because it was the best option, but also because it's the one I like best." He pulled her over to sit on his lap.

As if she'd been there for years, she nestled closer to him, sighing softly. They sat that way for a couple of minutes. He heard a breathy whisper. "You mean you don't hate me?"

"No, Virginia, I promise. I don't hate you. I'm not ashamed of you, and I think you're lovely."

He didn't become alarmed until she started to cry. It wasn't even the pretty girl tears that Pansy used when she wanted something. No, these were real tears, welling and then dropping down her cheeks like rain. Her face looked wretched, and he could do nothing but hold her while she cried out her storm. She hiccoughed once, then smack him on the shoulder. "How could you do that to me, you prig?"

Okay, _now_ he was beyond confused. He couldn't find south even if he were standing at the North Pole. "Do what?"

"Make me think I wasn't good enough for you."

He knew then with a sudden clarity that, even when he'd hated her and everything she'd stood for, he'd respected her. And somewhere along the line, that respect had grown into love.

He nearly smiled at the revelation, but decided against it when he saw her face glaring out at him under the shock of red hair. She wouldn't understand his glee. "I didn't mean to." He checked his watch. "Come on, you've got Transfiguration, and I've got Care of Magical Creatures."

**

.

**

They slept together that night, and for the rest of the week. They didn't do anything, of course, it was too soon for the both of them, but for Virginia, that time was magic. The feeling of being completely alone had washed away with her tears, and she revelled in the ability to wrap her arms around him and feel completely protected.

The only jarring note in her happiness was the memory of the book, and the way it had made her feel. It was ridiculous, of course, and in hindsight she knew that there had been nothing wrong with the book. It was a book, nothing more, and it couldn't hurt her. That didn't explain why she knew the ending, but perhaps Molly had told Ginny the story when they were younger.

It was with this thought in her mind that she decided to finish the book, to get over her fear forever.

After all, Hogwarts library wouldn't keep a dangerous book there for anyone to read, would it?

**

.

**

She awoke with a stretch and a sigh of pleasure, her hand settling back to its former position on Draco's stomach before she opened her eyes. She had a task to do today, one she couldn't put off. The day before she'd collected the book, and today she'd read it. It didn't matter that she knew the ending, that the ending sat like a dead weight around her heart, she'd read it anyway.

Draco's eyes opened, his face breaking into a grin at the sight of the dishevelled beauty sitting in his bed. Her hair was falling around her face, knots making it look almost like Granger's hair. She yawned once and blinked at him, then her face seemed to melt and she kissed him on the cheek.

They'd been kissing for a few days, but this was that first time that she'd taken the initiative. He was so shocked that he didn't react for a second, then he came to his senses and pulled her down beside her.

He stared at her, and she froze expectantly. They held the gaze for a few seconds. She decided maybe he was waiting for her to take the lead. Slightly unsure of how to do so, she leant into him, angling her face slightly and gave him a quick peck. It felt good to take the lead, so she did it again, this time staying there longer.

They'd been lying side by side, but Draco rolled over onto her, his weight pressing her down into the mattress. The pressure felt so good. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and tried to pull him closer to her.

One of his hands skimmed down the side of her body. She could feel his arousal pressing into her stomach. She wasn't wearing anything underneath the T-shirt he'd given her, but she'd never let him know that, and if he'd figured that out, well, he'd never let on that he knew.

He grinned wolfishly at her then slid his hand up her thigh. She had a horrible feeling of deja vu, and then the moment passed. He showed no surprise about the lack of barrier. Instead, he just lifted himself off her and pulled the shirt over her head.

He settled himself on her again, elbows braced to take his weight, and she looked at what she could see. He had a true seeker physique. He was light, but well toned and his muscles were lithe, rather that stringy. His body flowed in the perfect 'V' shape of a man – broad shoulders that slimmed down to the waist.

She ran her leg up his, realizing that he wasn't fully naked yet. She was about to ask why, but he forestalled the question simply by kissing her. His hand slid down her body, long fingers playing with her nipple.

Her breath hitched. She could feel warmth inside of her flooding down into the pit of her stomach. Her legs moved restlessly, and her arms slid down his back. They continued further of their own accord, relentlessly trying to divest him of his clothes. He didn't object, merely rolled over and pulled her on top of him to finish what she'd started.

Naked, she straddled his stomach. She was facing his legs, and she knew he'd be able to feel her warmth, her arousal. She bent over to her task, exposing herself completely, and he sucked in a breath. As soon as she finished her task, he picked her up bodily and turned her around to face him. He stared at her for a second, then smiled tenderly and whispered, "So beautiful." His hand reached out to cup her breast. She felt her insides melt.

It was her turn to gasp when his fingers reached down and cupped her. Her hips bucked slightly, and his middle finger slid along, resting just below her clit. She licked her lips. He seemed perfectly content to wait, which just wouldn't do. She bucked slightly and grasped him in her hand, positioned herself, and sank down onto him.

She started to move, to ride him, but she'd never done this before, and she couldn't get the right rhythm. She frowned her helplessness and feeling of inadequacy. Draco simply smiled at her and his hands grasped her hips, directing her movements. The pattern simply established itself from there.

His hands once again played with her breasts, his fingers swift and sure of exactly where to touch. He wasn't inexperienced.

Energy built up inside her, wanting to be released. She didn't know how, wasn't sure what to do, so she simply rode him faster. His smile encouraged and reassured her.

He kissed her neck. She could feel his mouth there, his hot breath whispering at the place where her neck joined her shoulders. She didn't understand what he was saying for a minute, and then understanding hit her like a bolt of lightning.

"I love you. I know you won't believe me, but I love you. I love you. I love you."

Shock hit her at the same moment his finger pressed on her clit, and she screamed and was thrown in a paroxysm of delight.

Minutes later she came to her senses, panting slightly. "Is it always..like that?"

He grinned at her. "Only when you're lucky."

He wrapped his arms around her. She lay her head on his muscular chest and simply smiled. All her misapprehensions about the book were gone. Thrown away. It was possibly foolhardy, but it was true nonetheless. She sighed against his chest. "I have to read a book today."

"Oh?"

Nodding, Virginia raised herself onto one elbow, being careful not to hurt him. "It's a book about this woman whose love left her. She was sick, but she didn't know it, and he'd left to find the cure. She'd gotten pregnant before he left, and she decided that he'd abandoned her. She became bitter and twisted, you see, and then he returned with the cure to her sickness. But she'd never known she was ill, so she rejected him, and sent him to the tower like all her other suitors to be killed. And then she died a month later, and so did the baby."

"And you need to read this book?"

She nodded again. "Yes. Because I've never read it before and I already know what happens." 

"So why do you need to read it?"

She grinned at him. "So that I can prove I'm right."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Well, I have some bad news for you all. This will be the last chapter for January, because I'm going away as of tomorrow. However, I do have the rest of the plot fully sorted out, which is a relief.

My beta-reader, Nicole, is a wonderful lady, and she's posting this story for me. We're in the process of upgrading our security system for the computer, and at the moment we have nothing to protect it. Fanfiction.net isn't the most secure site around, so I'm not going to be able to access it while my computer is so vulnerable. Also, props must go to her for her titling abilities, and also for pulling me up on a few matters. Please give her a hand.

Finally, I should have a new story up for you guys soon. It was a challenge by one of my friends, and it's due to be released on the 31st of January.

**EDIT:** I am uploading the first chapter of my challenge-story today. (The 31st of January.) So please read and review it.


	14. Eternal

**Title:** The Myth of Innocence  
**Author:** Catalina Royce  
**Disclaimer:** These stories are based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
**Rating:** R

**

Eternal

**

"Well," Virginia said as she snapped the book closed, "_that_ was a complete waste of time." She looked at Draco's prone form, lying in his bed with his arm slung over his face. He merely grunted and ignored her, muttering vaguely about please turning the lights out now. She grinned and doused the bedside light. She'd spent most of the day reading the book; had just finished, in fact, and had been perfectly correct in her prediction of what would happen to the girl. She had died, had had her life stolen away from her. A deep pity settled in Virginia's heart. The girl had seemed so real, near the end.

Of course, the last word had been out of place, disturbing, eerie. _Aeternus_. Eternal. But perhaps it was just a mistake. 

Or even a dedication. 

Virginia sighed and lay down beside Draco, her arm draping over his bare stomach. Without opening his eyes, he hugged her closer to him, his fingers instinctively finding her face. She kissed his fingers as they passed over her lips and...

Jerked as a sudden blinding headache attacked her mind with all the force of the Cruciatus Curse. Her hands grabbed at her temples, feeling sure that the pressure was going to make her head explode. She could hear yelling, and in the distant background, screaming. She was going to die. No one could stand this much pain. She was going to die, and Ginny would die with her. 

Virginia slumped over, eyes closing. A second later her eyes sprung open – she knew exactly what had happened. She looked in panic towards Draco, whispered three words to him, and passed out.

**

.

**

"Is she okay?" 

Draco sighed, running his hand through his hair. It was mussed and ruffled; he'd been repeating the action throughout the day. "I don't know Blaise." Virginia still hadn't woken up, hadn't even stirred. She was as pale as death, and her breathing was shallow. He didn't know what was wrong with her, but he was scared sick for her. She had to pull through. She just had to. The fates wouldn't be so cruel as to give him someone he loved and then take her away so quickly. At least he hoped they wouldn't. 

Blaise sat beside Draco in the hospital wing. They both looked sombre, unsure as to whether their friend would survive. They were both desperate. No one had a clue what was wrong with her, not even Madame Pomfrey, and Draco couldn't help but think perhaps it was something to do with, well..._Ginny_.

The name had become a name to fear for him. If Ginny decided that she wanted her body back, she could do it. She could oust Virginia – Virginia had said so – and Ginny could take Virginia away with no thought for the people that loved Virginia.

The silence in the hospital wing was absolute, but for a clock on the far wall. It's steady tick, tick was as maddening as water dripping. Draco wondered how families could stand it. Perhaps they just had too much on their mind.

She looked so _alone_ there. The hospital ward had been 'redone' recently, although the difference was barely noticeable, except for the panel of 'sick blue sea' colour that ran around the bottom half of the room. It was the same colour that hospitals the world over loved to use; a calming, depressing sort of colour that was universally recognised as 'hospital colours.' The colours only served to emphasis Virginia's frailty, though. She was so small in that bed, her pales skin being swallowed up by the sterile pillows. The only colour in her was her fire-bright Weasley hair.

The hair he had once condemned. The family he had once thought he was too good for, before he fell in love with their daughter.

Blaise looked over her, then tucked the blankets into her side, clapping Draco into the shoulder. "I have to go to Potions, explain to Snape." He looked over the girl he loved like a sister. When he looked back at Draco, there was a dread fear in his eyes. "She'll be okay, Draco. This is our girl we're talking about." 

_Our girl,_ Draco thought. _Our girl with a head of fire and eyes like steel. And another girl inside her mind who could destroy her._ He didn't say anything. Just sat and waited.

**

.

**

So this was her mind. This swirl of white and raspberry, the streaks of midnight and the spots of red. This is what her mind looked like to the outside – or was it inside? – forces. This was the battlefield of Virginia and Ginny...and now of the newcomer. The enemy. The one who was forcing her way into their mind exactly the same way Virginia had done to Ginny all those years ago.

Now Virginia understood the pain Ginny had gone through.

Who are you? Virginia cried out against the pain. She had to defeat this enemy. But even if she did, it could take her years to find the path back to consciousness. This was her unconsciousness. _This_ was coma.

There was no answer, just a great expanding power. Virginia gave in, feeling her soul fuse with this one. _I love you, Draco_. She thought, sliding ever deeper into mental unconsciousness.

**

.

**

"Where is he?" Ron bellowed, his face bright red with rage. He was so furious, so upset that Draco almost felt sorry for him as he stood up.

"You wanted something, Weasley?" 

"What the hell have you done to my sister, Malfoy?" 

Draco looked over at Virginia, still lying prone in the bed, still looking as pale as death. "I've done nothing, Weasley." _Perhaps I could have done more to help her? Maybe if I hadn't let her protect Ginny...maybe if I were quicker to react, rather than just staring in surprise?_ She was so young. She didn't deserve to die. 

"Then why is she lying in a hospital bed, looking like she's going to cark it any minute?" Ron's eyes were blue, nothing like Virginia's. They didn't seem to be anything but shocked. Draco wondered how worried Ronald Weasley was beneath the façade. Draco just sat down again, not even taking the bait. He was too worried. 

After a minute of bluster, Ron sat too, his face drawn. He was directly opposite Draco. They said nothing for hours, merely maintaining their vigil. Potter and the Mudblood came in and then left quite a few times, and Blaise hovered as often as he could afford. 

They were two enemies brought together by the pain of a loved one. Neither of them spoke to the other.

It was Draco who broke the silence. "She's going to be alright, you know, Weasley." 

Ron nodded. "I know. She always wanted to go out with a bang. And she's strong."

Draco licked his lips. "I love her." The confession was a husky appeal for the brother to understand.

"So do I." 

The silence between the two boys was intense, unbroken. But no more needed to be said. The air was clear. 

**

.

**

She awoke with a great gasp, like a drowning man finally reaching the surface. Ron and Draco shot up from their sitting positions, immediately hovering over her in concern. She looked around in confusion, then closed her eyes, holding her hand to her head. Ron called for Madame Pomfrey, while Draco looked her over, trying to see if she was really all right. 

He'd been so worried. She looked fine. But what if there was brain damage? What if she wasn't okay? 

Virginia's health already seemed to be coming back. She licked her lips, pushed her hair back with a shaky hand, and the colour rushed back to her face. She took a deep breath and looked around at the room, seeming not to recognise her surroundings. Her eyes focussed on Draco. "Water," she croaked.

He hurried to fulfil the request. A satisfied expression settled on her face and she lay back against the pillows. Draco brought back a glass of water, holding it while she drank. Her eyes were darting about, searching for something as she drank greedily from the cup. 

Her eyes landed on something and her face lit up in what seemed to be sheer pleasure. Frowning, feeling almost jealous of that thing (and realising Ron looked the same), Draco turned to look at what she was staring at. Blaise entered the room, his black hair looking slightly windswept, his face alight with joy as he saw Virginia sitting up in bed. He hurried over, leant down and hugged her tightly. "We were so worried," he said, including Ron and Draco in his statement. 

Virginia smiled at him, hugged him back, then leant up and kissed him softly. Her eyes had drifted shut, and, though Blaise had recoiled in horror, he set her back against her pillows with the utmost care. She sighed, whispered, "Tom," and fell asleep.

In those seconds, Draco's worst fear was confirmed. 

**

.

**

"I'm sorry, Draco," Blaise whispered for the thousandth time that hour. "I don't know what got into her." Blaise looked at his hands. "I don't think she even remembered us. She called me "Tom"".

Draco took a deep breath. "I know it's not your fault. I...she has a sort of...disease." He licked his lips and tried not to think about it. A great lump of lead had settled in his stomach since Virginia had woken a few hours ago. He knew that whatever happened, it wouldn't be good. 

Something had happened with Tom Riddle while she was unconscious. He wouldn't put it past Riddle to do something that would destroy his victim's mind after a few years. That was the only explanation. Virginia had done nothing abnormal that day. She'd gotten up, went to school, came back, read for a while, then was attacked.

Could you be attacked by someone from within your mind? The question left him scared. What if someone tried to break into his mind? He definitely needed to find someone to teach members of his group Occlumency...it was, after all, about guarding your mind, not just your thoughts.

"What do you mean, she has a disease?"

"It's hard to explain, Blaise." He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to recall exactly what Virginia had said. "In Virginia's first year, she was given a diary by...my father," Draco spat out. Only Blaise knew exactly how much Draco hated his father. That hate had saved his neck at times; Voldemort didn't look past the cloud of hate in his mind to discover the reason for it. He just assumed that it was against Mudbloods. "The diary used to belong to Tom Riddle...who is now known as Lord Voldemort. The diary was animated and it...possessed Ginny Weasley." This was where it got tricky. "Ginny got sent to St. Mungos, and while there...Virginia surfaced." 

Blaise's shocked face was evidence that he wasn't explaining properly. Draco hurried to continue. "There are two souls in the body of the Weasley. There's Ginny Weasley, and Virginia. Recently, Ginny became...dormant, while Virginia – our girl – became dominant. That's around the time we became friends."

Blaise stared at him in horror. "So by Tom, she thought I was Voldemort?"

Draco sighed and shook his head. Apparently, that was exactly what he was saying. There was no other plausible explanation, was there?

* * *

**Author's Notes:** 10 points to the person who guesses where I'm going with this! I actually have this all plotted out, so you can all guess. Some of you might already know, though, so...perhaps we shouldn't spoil the plot? Ah well. Anyway, I'm just going to use this chapter to plug a few of my things. First of all is my Lily-James 6 Chaptered romance that was written for a challenge. It's called Two Sided Coin, and I think it's a good read. I had a lot of fun writing it, at least. Secondly, is my Harry Potter fanfiction site, Niffler, which can be found at www.niffler.blogspot.com. And last but not least is my site Bitter Sweet, which is an original fiction hosting site. You can find that at www.tastethebittersweet.tk. So please check them out, because I do put work into these as well as writing and I'd like to get some feedback.

Thanks to my wonder-beta, Nicole, for finding the time to beta this for me. She's been incredibly busy lately, so it's brilliant of her to find the time to beta for me! The next chapter shouldn't be long, however, I'm busy, Nicole's busy, and I have an incredible toothache which threatens to put me out of action for a while, so the previous 1 chapter per week rule probably won't apply, sorry.


	15. Possession

**Title:** The Myth of Innocence  
**Author:** Catalina Royce  
**Disclaimer:** These stories are based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
**Rating:** R

**

Possession

**

This headache was blinding her. She rubbed her temples, wondering how long it would last, and if she really cared. _She was back_. She hadn't believed him, hadn't trusted Thom enough to be truthful with her. Her family had poisoned her mind against him. For that she was sorry.

But he was here now. He'd had two books enchanted. One for him, and one for her. And she'd seen him, earlier, when she'd first woken up. He looked just as he always had; dark and handsome. And she was still a redhead, still pale. Nothing had changed, really, except perhaps the times and those who 'loved' her. 

She wondered who the blonde was. The soul who'd joined with hers loved him dearly, and there was something about him that drew even her. He seemed to have been genuinely worried about her, something that she'd never received in her own lifetime.

Adaline stretched and yawned, feeling her muscles protest and the movement. The redheaded boy next to her – he didn't seem to have moved since the first time she'd woken up, except to lean on the side of his chair and sleep – looked exhausted. Pity for him, she thought. Jonathon only cared because he thought he was the one to cause this pain.

The thought made her pause. This was a different time, she must remember. The beds and the chairs were all different. But the people seemed so similar to what she remembered. Except for the blonde. He was different. Once again she wondered who he was.

Adaline sat back in her bed, yawning and closing her eyes. Everything was perfect now. Soon she'd see Thom, and everything would be perfect.

Just perfect.

**

.

**

Draco walked into the potions lesson 20 minutes late, nodded curtly to Professor Snape and indicated Potter and Granger. "I need to see these two, Professor." It was a long shot, he knew, but he did need to see the scar head. If there was something wrong with Ginny – and it was about Voldemort – Potter would be all too happy to risk his neck. 

"I'm afraid, Draco, that Mister Potter has yet to master the basics of the potion we are currently studying, and as such cannot leave the class." 

Normally Draco would have sneered at the scar head and taken pleasure in his misery, however, this situation was a complex one, and he didn't have time for Snape's personal vengeance. "Professor Dumbledore wishes to see Granger and Potter, Professor. It's about Ginny Weasley." It seemed that these two were actually genuinely worried about Ginny, because at the mention of her name they both stood up quickly and followed Draco out of the classroom, regardless of Snape's refusal. 

Harry strode down the corridor, quickly overtaking both Granger and Draco. When he turned a corner, Draco called out irritably, "Where are you going, scar face?" 

"Dumbledore's office, Malfoy." 

"Dumbledore doesn't want to see you." Potter turned around, an incredulous rage on his face. Draco shrugged and leant against a wall. "I needed to talk to you about Virginia." 

"_Ginny_," Harry muttered. 

"What?"

"Ginny." He yelled. "Her name is Ginny." He, too, leant against the wall, eyeing Draco with a wary dislike. Granger looked from one to the other, then stayed exactly where she was. Her fingers were digging into her palms. If she kept doing that, her hands would probably start to bleed.

"Look," Draco began, knowing he couldn't reveal Virginia's secret, but that he had to tell them something for them to help him. "I think Virginia's being possessed by Tom Riddle again." 

**

.

**

Thom came back to her room, looking at her anxiously. Adaline smiled in greeting, wondering fondly what he'd done wrong to merit his anxiousness. The only time males looked like that was when they'd done something. She'd forgive him, though, no matter what it was, because she was just so happy to see him. The redhead still hadn't woken up, and she wasn't exactly sure what time she was living in now, and confusion was starting to make her head hurt.

She reached out her arms, but he stopped just out of her reach. Confusion flickered over her face. "Thom," she whispered. "Why won't you touch me?" 

Thom took a deep breath. "Look, Virginia." _Virginia?_ "I know you think...well, no, I don't really know what you think. But, I don't think of you in that way. And you're hurting Draco, Virginia. He's completely in love with you." He expelled a breath and look relieved. Thom sat down next to her on the bed, then reached over and hugged her. She had understood what he meant, but he was just so alive, and she'd finally forgiven him for his betrayal. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him, trying to deepen the kiss.

Thom shoved her away from him, then ran a hand through his dark hair. "For Merlin's sake, Virginia! I don't think of you like that! You're like a sister, nothing more!" 

Adaline's lower lip started trembling. This wasn't Thom. He wasn't anything like Thom. He didn't speak like Thom, or act like Thom, and he didn't love her like Thom did. "Who are you?" She whispered, feeling the hot sting of tears in her eyes. Where was Thom, then? He'd promised her that he'd be there when she woke up. Of course, she hadn't believed it would happen, but now that he had, he _had_ to be here. He'd never failed her before.

"I'm Blaise, Virginia. Remember? Your first real friend? The one who loves you like a sister?"

"Where's Thom?" He wasn't here. Why wasn't he here? He should be here. She paused for a minute. Perhaps Thom wasn't his name. After all, it seemed that Adaline's body was named Virginia. But surely Thom would have revealed himself if he was here?

Blaise looked down at his hands, and stood up, making sure not to disturb the still-sleeping redhead. "I think Draco should explain things to you. I'll go get him."

Draco would explain things. Who was this Draco? What was his connection? Apparently he loved Virginia, so he was probably a fiancée, or even a husband. After all, this body was at least 16, old enough to have been married for several years. In fact, this body could have had children by now.

_Children_. Her child. What had happened to her child? Had it died? Had it lived and grown? Did it perhaps grow up to be the first half-blood allowed to use a wand? Adaline patted her stomach, wishing to feel the hard roundness of her child growing within her.

She'd lost her child. Adaline clenched her eyes tight, trying to stop the tears from falling. She didn't like this time period. There was no Thom, no child, and family that she didn't know and didn't like.

A door opened softly, and Adaline looked up. The blonde walked in, Blaise trailing behind him. He must be Draco, then. Draco looked around, surveying the room with an unconscious arrogance, and raised an eyebrow slightly at the redhead's sleeping posture.

Adaline watched intensely for a moment, almost laughing with joy when he entered the room with a confident male stride. This was it. _This_ was Thom. Just because he didn't look like Thom, it didn't change what was inside him. And Blaise had said that Thom – or Draco, as he liked to be called – loved her. He'd obviously spent most of his time with her, waiting for her to wake up.

The redhead next to her awoke with a jerk, then rubbed his face and stared at the new comers. He frowned at Thom and Blaise, then smiled as a bushy-haired girl and a skinny boy walked in. Adaline chose to ignore them. She concentrated on memorising the look of her Thom.

She held out her arms, joy registering in her face. Thom was here. He would love her, help her, and show her the way. She sighed with pleasure. 

Thom walked over to her, hugged her tight. Her happiness swelled in leaps and bounds, and Adaline kissed him on the cheek. "I'm here, Thom," she whispered, joy overflowing. "I'm here. Adaline's here." She sighed happily and stoked his hair.

Draco pulled away from her and smiled. "I missed you," he told her, keeping his face calm despite the panic seething underneath his skin. Thom? Adaline? He knew the name of the book that Virginia had been reading was called Adaline. There had to be a connection, he was sure. Virginia subsided on the pillows, and Draco tucked the blanket around her. "Now, you need to get some rest, and I'll be back later, to make you better."

"You always make me better, Thom."

He smiled at her, then left the room, grabbing Granger and pulling her behind him. Hermione looked up at him with anger. Draco smiled mirthlessly. "Virginia's been possessed, and not by Tom Riddle. I need you to help me with an...exorcism."

"Oh," Hermione muttered, breathless. "Oh no. This isn't good. It just...it's so badly documented. It rarely...but there was one book. I saw it last time I..." she rushed off. "Tell them I'll be in the Library!" She called. The statement was unnecessary. Potter and the Weasel had had followed them out of the ward.

"She always does that," Ron muttered.

* * *

**Author's Note:** 10 points go to Theophania, who guessed very well. Anyway, I'm incredibly sorry for the delay. Both myself and my beta have been extremely busy [this chapter hasn't been beta-read, sorry. Nicole really is extremely busy.]. I have just started year 11 this year, and I've accepted a moderator position at a forum I frequent, I've been adding to a forum I operate -- Bitter Sweet now has a reveiws site, by the way --, and I've been working on my Harry Potter fanfiction site, which still has a lot to go before it is completed. All together, this means that the chapters can be a long time coming, but believe me, they _are_ still coming.

On another note, after I finish this story -- which isn't very far away, according to my plot (excited? I am. I've been writing this story for over two years!) -- I'll extend Once Upon A Time slightly, which some of you may have seen. If you haven't, I'll reccomend them. My one shots are probably my best writing anyway. And after I've finished that extension (only a short extension, mind you), I'll continue and post my favorite story, Avarice, which is possibly the best thing in fanfiction that I've written. Anyway, I just thought I'd reassure you that by no means do I plan to stop writing fanfiction or The Myth of Innocence. And don't forget -- read and review! I love thee for it.


	16. Time Stands Still

**Title:** The Myth of Innocence  
**Author:** Catalina Royce  
**Disclaimer:** These stories are based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
**Rating:** R

**

Time Stands Still

**

"Is it a demon?"

"No." 

"A ghost?"

A slight pause... "Sort of. I think."

"You don't know?"

"Not for certain." 

Hermione's voice became shrill. "You expect us to perform an exorcism on someone when we don't even know what's possessed her? Are you insane? Do you know what that can do? An exorcism is dangerous enough at the best of times." 

A very male sigh of exasperation. "Yes, Granger, I do know what can happen. But while you've come up with absolutely zilch to help us, I've been researching my facts. Virginia is possessed by a witch called Adaline." 

"Maybe Adaline's a benign force?" There was such a hopeful tone to the boy's voice. She recognised it as the redhead's. Adaline peeked around the slightly open door.

"Oh sure," the first male barked. "She used to lure males in and when they swore their love for her, she had their heads chopped off. She's a right pussy cat, can't you tell?" 

The redhead's voice became anxious. "Harry, don't you remember when Voldemort left Quirrel?" 

A short, sharp silence. The female spoke again. "We can't presume that, Ron. I mean, there are different types of possession. She could just be inhabiting the body and not have even touched Ginny. I know that much. There are two types of possession. The other one...well, let's not think about it." 

"But what if it is the other one?"

The last male, the one with black hair spoke up. "We do it anyway. We all love her equally, but we can't afford to have Adaline _and_ Voldemort out there together. From what Draco has said, Adaline is ruthless. What if Voldemort and Adaline were to pair up?"

The redhead spoke. "Harry, you can't honestly ask me to put my sister in jeopardy because there's a chance that maybe whatever has taken her over will join with Voldemort."

"I'm not asking, Ron." The black haired boy looked at the other three teenagers in the room. "I'm saying, we might have to. We need to be prepared for that." 

Once again silence drifted through them.

Adaline retreated from the door and made her way back to her hospital bed. So they wanted to exorcise her, did they? She shouldn't be surprised. After all, for most of her life her family had scorned her. Why should she expect this time to be different? 

As she pulled the blankets up over her, she bit her lip. But Thom – Draco – why would he betray her? Perhaps he wasn't Thom after all. Perhaps he was just..just this century's version of Thom. And her body was this century's version of her. Perhaps that was all life was – just a repetition of a person's life until they got it right. Perhaps before her there was someone else who got it even more wrong. Perhaps her predecessor had never even met Thom. 

The thought of living without having ever met Thom chilled her to the core. She relied on him so much, and he on her. He had loved her so much. Almost as much as this century's Thom had loved this century's Adaline. 

And she'd killed that chance of happily ever after, for them at least. Caught up in their own love, Thom and Adaline had destroyed another love before it could ever reach fullness. 

Adaline choked back a sob. They could have been happy. They could have learnt what it meant to survive when no one wanted you to. They could have been the ones to break the cycle of unhappiness that all the past and future Adalines and Thoms had gone through.

And because of her, they wouldn't be able to. Her soul was fused with this one; the only way for her to stay in this body. If they destroyed her...it was too much a burden thinking about. 

And if her actions and the consequences spilled over onto the next generation of Adaline and Thom? What if they had come full circle, and Adaline and Thom never met, instinctively knowing that to be together would be too painful to even try? Adaline would always be trapped in her own myth of innocence, unable to escape from the family that loved and at the same time hated her, unable to find out why she longed for someone to sweep her off her feet and show her the world outside of her locked cage of purity. 

And that was what it was. A cage. Broken as soon as the right person came along. But what if that myth was never destroyed?

Adaline wiped her hand over her eyes. She would figure it out. This century's Adaline would love Thom, and they would survive for the future. They just had to. She wouldn't let them collapse.

The four entered the room, a heavy silence between them. She looked over them, a chill shuddering up her spine. They would destroy her. And she...she would aid them, just to leave it possible for herself and Thom to one day find love with a happily ever after attached. She would destroy herself in the name of love.

But first, she just wanted to pretend that Thom – Draco – loved her. And in that pretence, she'd give away the secret to her destruction, and hope that she had enough time to save her counterpart.

Forcing the sadness and guilt back, she gave the performance of her life. Her eyes lit up and her mouth smiled at the four. "I need to talk to Draco." 

Draco. Draco. He would always be Thom to her. 

Draco didn't care about the risk to the wizarding world; if it had been Virginia instead of Adaline he would have joined her in whatever havoc-reeking she'd have wished. But she wasn't, and that was the point. She wasn't Virginia, and she didn't belong in this life. She had stolen Virginia from him, and for that he would make her pay. 

Virginia and he had conquered so much to be together. She'd beaten Ginny, she'd overcome prejudices, they'd been able to ignore the Trio and had overcome jealousy. They'd started the beginning of a life together, a real life that would heal them both.

Would he and Virginia ever be together again? 

Draco tried to ignore the doubts rising in his mind. They'd find a way, no matter what happened. They would find a way. He had to believe that; there were no other options.

The Trio left him with her, and she slid herself off the bed. If he ignored the way she spoke – her vowels and her speech were different to both Virginia and Ginny's – he could almost tell himself that she loved him. I lie, perhaps, but it was the only way to live at this moment.

"What did you want to talk to me about?"

Her eyes drifted down to his chest in a gesture of submission. "I wanted to talk to you. I miss you. I haven't seen you for…an eternity."

He smiled softly, a wistful quality in his eyes. "I know, love. I missed you too." He missed Virginia. All of her. Even her sarcastic and caustic comments. They hadn't been together long enough, goddamn it. They should have had more time. 

"Thom," she whispered, "I know it's you. I just wanted to ask you. You mentioned once that they'd only ever be able to destroy us by allowing us to hear the cry of a Kiji whilst speaking the chant of Viduus." She hoped that she wasn't being too obvious about giving away the path to her destruction. The last thing she needed was to make him believe that it had been too easy, for him to become suspicious and not believe it would work. "Do you think that may still be possible? I..I don't want to die again, Thom. Leaving you once was hard enough."

He hugged her, and she thought she would die from the bittersweet feelings coursing through her. Would he ever forgive her for hurting his Adaline? She hoped so. Never, in any lifetime would she want Thom to hate her. His hand stroked up her back rhythmically, and he muttered soothing nonsense words which were so incredibly powerful, for all their inanity. If she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine it was her Thom.

"It'll be okay, Adaline. We'll always be together, no matter what." 

She wondered if her Thom had ever made it to another life. He had given so much to her, and all she wanted now was to belong to him. To be with him. 

She didn't like this world much anymore. There was too much that she didn't know, too many people who didn't know her. No one took an interest, and even this Thom wasn't exactly like her Thom. He knew her so less well. Perhaps it was the beginning of their romance.

A romance that she, Adaline, had cut short. 

Draco stared down at the girl in his arms, chest feeling like steel bands were wrapped around it. He'd seen her look of desolation just seconds before, and couldn't understand it. Perhaps she missed her family? His thoughts were interrupted as Adaline pulled back and looked him square in the eye. "I need to use the library. I need to get there. Can you help me? Madame...she would not let me out unaccompanied." 

"Why do you need to use it?" 

What to say? She couldn't tell him about the division of souls that she was hoping to research; he would be suspicious. It seemed she had hesitated a fraction too long, so she replied quickly, not thinking over her answer. "I'm looking for something to cement me here. For some reason I feel...almost detached with this soul. Like I'm being divided from the soul I took over. I need to research it, in case I have." 

He nodded. "I don't think Madame Pomfrey will let you leave the hospital wing, but I will go to the Library for you and ask Madame Pince about…the divisions of souls, was it?" He'd have to tell the Trio that they'd need to act quickly, while Adaline and Virginia were still capable of being separated without losing Virginia. He'd go to the Library, too, and come back almost empty handed, to prevent her doing anything that would weld Virginia and Adaline's souls together. 

"Thank you, my love. I am always grateful for your support." Draco would help her, just as Thom had always helped her.

She knew now that she never should have tried to live longer than her lifetime, and she had to find a way to fix things.

**

.

**

"What in hell is a Kiji?"

"I have no clue, Ron, what do you think I'm trying to find out?" 

"Honestly, Hermione, with you, you never know." 

She let her quill drop onto the table. "Well, I don't exactly have much to go on, do I? All we know is that it has a cry, which we presume makes it a bird. I can't find it in any of my textbooks – not even Fantastic Beasts & Where To Find Them, and everyone knows that it's the one that carries the most mythological species known to wizard kind!" Her voice had risen steadily until her voice pierced the quite hush of the library. 

Ron stared at her, then plonked down on the chair beside her, clapping one of his hands onto her shoulder. She could feel the heat of his long fingers through her robe, and for a second she closed her eyes, before sighing and apologising. She could never stay mad at him, no matter how much she wanted to. He was just so adorable and naive. He could never understand what he had done wrong, and his face when he got angry was so cute – not that she'd ever tell him that.

"I'm sorry. I'm just," she shrugged, dislodging his hand. "You know, edgy." She looked back down at the book, trying to ignore the images of cutesy couple scenes with Ron that were running through her mind. 

He'd be a fantastic boyfriend – totally obtuse, of course – but so caring and tender, and even slightly…clumsy? The thought made frown. She had no right imagining Ron as anything other than a friend.

His hand brushed a piece of her hair back from her face. She looked up with a frown, and his forefinger traced the lines made on her forehead. "You frown too much, Hermione. If you're going to get wrinkles, they should at least be laughter lines." 

She sent him a wan smile. "I hate to remind you, Ron, but these days there isn't a heck of a lot to smile about." 

"I know," his voice was soft and oh, so gentle. She had to repress a soft shiver of awareness – of hope. He was just in one of his moods, of course. Come tomorrow, they'd be back to 'good old pals', the entire scene forgotten. "But I don't like seeing you sad, 'Mione." 

She knew what would follow. His speech about her being another sister to him, about how she'd always be his best friend. She didn't honestly think she could bare it, not with Ginny being in jeopardy, and their NEWTs only a few months away, all of them facing a life after Hogwarts, with all its uncertainties.

They were interrupted by a short cough. Hermione looked up to see Cho Chang hovering uncertainly near their table. "Have you...have you seen Harry?" She asked shyly. 

Hermione wondered cynically what it was this time. The new flying instructor [Madame Hooch had been promoted to some mysterious and as-yet undefined position in the Games and Sports section of the Ministry of Magic at the beginning of the year] and Harry were always conducting an off-again on-again flirtation that sometimes bordered on an actual relationship. Neither Hermione nor Ron bothered to keep up with their petty arguments anymore, instead just shrugging and agreeing with whatever Harry said about her at the time. They made sure, however, to be totally non-committal about Cho. After an incident where Hermione and Harry had spent the last 12 hours bitching about Cho, Harry had turned around and accused Hermione of trying to destroy their half-relationship. 

"No, sorry, Cho." Hermione rifled through the pages of her book again. There had to be something there, surely.

"Oh." Cho just stood there, and Hermione looked up, an irritation lurking in her eyes. Cho was a nice person, really, but Hermione saw no reason to include her totally in whatever they did. Hermione's nails started a rhythm on the desktop, and Ron hastily covered her hand with his. Hermione's blood pressure shot up, her pulse thumping through her veins.

She had to calm herself, _now._

"What are you looking for?" Cho asked.

Plastering a smile on her face, Hermione muttered, "We're looking for a description of a Kiji." 

Cho's eyes widened, and a true smile broke over her face. Hermione started to glean what it was Harry saw in her. When Cho wasn't moping about what a horrible life she'd had, she was really quite pretty. "But I know what that is. My family is Chinese, of course, but we have some relatives in Japan. A Kiji is a type of bird. It's a pheasant, said to be the soul of a woman that's died." 

"Of course!" Her mind taking a mental step to the side, Hermione could see perfectly well how that would work. She jotted down the description, then smiled up at Cho. "I honestly don't know where Harry is, sorry. Perhaps he's down at the Great Hall? He seems to eat a lot, these days," she joked weakly. 

Cho nodded her thanks and left silently. Hermione went over all the information she had, piecing together the facts. It was a few seconds before she realised that Ron's hand hadn't moved from its position atop hers. She looked at him in shock, noting that he was staring down at their hands with some surprise. "Ron?" She asked warily.

"I never noticed how small your hands were, 'Mione." 

Somehow, the situation had shifted without her realising it. She tried to shrug it off, tried to ignore the hope in her heart. "That's what happens when you're Ron Weasley and your hands are growing as fast as everything else." _Dear god, she hadn't meant to say that. It sounded so...so sleazy! The innuendo there was so obvious, but she hadn't meant it, she really hadn't!_

He laughed. She blushed, grinning with embarrassment. Her watched her smiling, his free hand coming up to trace her lips. "That's better." His voice was so much huskier than usual. She could feel herself melting. His thumb was still resting on her lip, and it seemed only natural to make a slight movement with her lip, as if about to bite it, and draw his thumb into her mouth.

_What in hell was she doing?_ A voice screamed at her. And, then again, there was another little devil inside her, giving her confidence. After all, Ron hadn't pulled away, had he? In fact, those were his hands coming up to frame her face, his lips drawing ever nearer. His mouth kissing her. 

The kiss was short, just a peck that lasted a second. But a second was long enough to change things between them irrevocably.

He kissed her again, softly, before sitting back with a sigh. He ran his hand through his hair, messing it all up. "Hell, Hermione, I'm sorry."

With a frown, she turned back to her work muttering, "Don't be."

He slung his arm around her shoulders. "We'll talk about this after we get Ginny back, okay 'Mione?"

"Okay, Ron." She smiled. 

"Good." He checked his book bag, then looked up at her. "Got all the information we need?" 

"Yes." Was her weak reply. 

"Let's go then." They walked out in a friendly but at the same time tense silence. Both of them knew something had happened in the library, something so much more profound then just a few quick pecks. It was the beginning of something, definitely.

**

.

**

She could hear their voices outside the door; a muttering of echoes on stone. They'd be in the hospital wing, she was sure.

"Are we ready? Have we got everything?"

"Well, we've got the spell and the chook. That's all we need, right?" 

"Yeah, apparently. And it's a pheasant, Ron, not a chook." The girl's voice.

A pheasant. A spell. They were going to destroy her. _No!_ It was too soon! She hadn't had a chance to figure it all out. She hadn't yet divided from the soul she'd welded herself to. She needed more time. They wouldn't do this, surely. 

Then they walked in, determination on their faces. The boy with black hair was holding the Kiji, a handful of feathers in his grasp. Adaline gasped and shook her head. _No, please,_ She thought, _It is too soon_. I haven't had a chance to make things right.

But then the black haired boy pulled out the bird's feathers, his face set in a mask. The Kiji squawked with indignation. Adaline whirled to face Thom. "You don't understand!" She cried in horror, as the girl started chanting words. "I haven't had enough time!" 

_"Dimitto." _

Each time the bird squalled she felt a sharp pain in her head. She needed to make things right! She needed to tell them, to stop them before the killed the girl they loved! "I need more time!"

_"Aeternus."_

Her hold on this body was leaving her. She collapsed on the floor, sobbing with the effort of staying in this place. _Please_, she thought weakly, _don't do it. I haven't made it right_.

_"Abicio."_ The last word was punctuated by the squawk of the Kiji, and Adaline was torn from the body. Ginny's body fell unconscious, slumped on the floor. Draco picked her up tenderly and laid her down on her bed. Virginia would be all right now, he told himself. They hadn't had time to weld together. She'd be all right. 

Blaise walked in, his face fresh, totally devoid of any of the havoc the other four had been going through. Because he, at least, had not been a party to their turmoil, to their decision. Blaise wasn't blind, however. He looked from Harry, still holding the Kiji, to Ron, to Hermione, then finally to Draco, whom had Virginia cradled tenderly in his arms, his face full of doubt and a painful, desolate hope. 

Blaise's harsh voice shot through the group. "What the _fuck_ have you done?"

**

.

**

And somewhere within the bruised and battered body of Miss Weasley, a consciousness slowly uncurled itself from its rest, roused by the sudden emptiness within her body. It took note quickly, before sliding back into the deep abyss it had used to protect itself from the world. 

* * *

**Author's Note:** *laughs* What can I say? When it comes to Ron-Hermione, I'm just a softie. I didn't plan to write their 'romance', as such, it just appeared. Anyway, I had such a good time writing this chapter, and I hope you enjoyed it, too. A few explanations in regards to the method of destroying Adaline;

First of all, not an exorcism. I was looking down that path, but it had so many bad connotations to it that I decided I'd use a magical solution rather than a religious one. The definition of a Kiji [taken from pantheon.org -- great place for information.] is:

_A bird (pheasant) which may be the soul of a woman who has died. _

And the definition of Viduus is the following:

_The Roman deity who separates soul from the dead body._

I decided to combine the two, and, thus, the spell.

As always, props and thanks go to: Nicole, my beta reader, for **a)** beta reading the story, and **b)** Coming up with the title for the chapter [because she's so much more imaginative than me when it comes to that.]; Qiana, for listening to my mad ideas; and last, but definately not least, those who review my stories: You guys are the ones who get me motivated when I feel lost within a story.

**Important:** I have just uploaded my Harry Potter website. It's a collaboration between myself, Qiana Elfsong, Nicole, and Jiwwy. However, at the present moment, only my stuff has been uploaded. Check it out at . It has all my old stuff, as well -- at least, the stuff that I have. All my stories will be uploaded there first from now on, so keep checking back to the updates page for news!


	17. How They Fall

**Title:** The Myth of Innocence  
**Author:** Catalina Royce  
**Disclaimer:** These stories are based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
**Rating:** R

**

How They Fall

**

"We've saved her." Ron cut in, indignant. "She was possessed."

"You've _DESTROYED_ her." 

"Like hell we have! She was being possessed!" 

"So? WHO ARE YOU TO DECIDE WHO LIVES AND DIES?" Blaise's angry roar cut through the group. Hermione, ever practical, cast a silencing charm on the room, locking the door so Madame Pomfrey couldn't come bustling in at an inopportune moment. 

Draco stood up. "SHE'S NOT DEAD." He roared.

"Oh," Blaise said in a knife-edge tone. "_Really_? Then why isn't she awake? Why is she lying in that bed, looking like she's about to die any second?" 

Blaise's description was horribly accurate.

The entire group froze. Before this incident, they had always been thorough. They had always known, deep down, that what they were doing was exactly right. And now the trio were swamped with a paralysing doubt. 

They reacted the only way they could. 

"We had to do it. She was being possessed." 

"She could have _died_, Blaise." Hermione's voice implored him for reassurance. 

He gave them none. "She could _still_ die. Fucking Gryffindors. Idiots. You never think things through, do you?" He sighed wearily. "I should have expected no less. And _you_," he sneered at Draco. "I would have expected better of _you_." He cut short their protests. "God, why can't any of you ever accept that you're wrong? You all walk around acting like you know everything, but you don't! High and mighty, never wrong! Well this time you are." 

"She's alive, Blaise. _Our_ Virginia. You should be thanking us." Draco's announcement was said bolder than he felt.

"For what? For destroying yet _another_ sister of mine?" Blaise took a few deep breaths. "If what you say it true – if you really did save her – I will be the first to thank you, you know that. However, at the moment, all I see is a little girl who was betrayed by those she loved. A little girl who has yet to wake up. And I can't forgive you all for that, yet. I just can't." Blaise turned and started to leave.

"Blaise!" Draco called at his retreating back. "She's alive. She'll wake up. I can feel it."

Blaise paused in midstep. Without turning around, he replied. "I'm glad you can, Draco. Because I can't. Our Virginia is gone." 

**

.

**

She hadn't woken up. Three weeks, and she hadn't woken up. Blaise still hadn't spoken to him, and the Trio were barely seen these days. All of them were racked by the guilt they faced.

They'd taken a chance, and they'd lost. They'd paid the forfeit, were still paying. The Weasley parents wouldn't speak to their son, their eyes reflecting a hidden anger from within their disappointment and grief. Mrs. Weasley had gone mute with grief for two days, while Mr. Weasley has simply cried. 

Draco had yet to cry. He couldn't believe in his heart that she was gone, not when she lay there so peacefully undisturbed. She needed time, was all. She had to know it was safe. Had to know that she needed to wake up and love them all again.

Sooner or later she would realise that, and then she'd wake up. 

He had to believe that. 

This was a test of faith. He had to believe in her, had to ignore the hatred coming from the Weasleys, the animosity radiating from Blaise, had to ignore the contempt from the Gryffindors and the cold shoulders from the Slytherins. He had to ignore Snape's nastiness. Most importantly, he had to ignore his own despair and just believe. She would wake up, and then she would know that he had waited for her and her alone. 

And then they would be together – properly together. They would have time to linger over their love. She just had to wake up. 

His head sank down to rest in his hands, and Draco felt another cold wave of despair rolling over him. She would wake up, he told himself, of course she would wake up.

**

.

**

Was she climbing, or just floating? The sliver of logic that still existed in the dark place noted that it was lighter here. Had she risen? Why would she rise? Virginia was there, wasn't she? Virginia would have kept her down, like a comforting blanket of warmth to keep her safe from the world. She floated higher, further away from the dark place, and the lack of warmth – the absence of Virginia – made her consciousness wake up with a rush. Slowly and with a certainty that only emphasised her fear, she searched around for any trace of the soul that had lived there with her for so long.

Nothing. 

Slowly, so as not to shock her body, she made the climb towards herself. She slipped into place with all the ease of sliding into a warm bath, and then allowed her already exhausted mind to rest. She needed time before she faced the world again. 

**

.

**

Draco looked at the precious little redhead sleeping in the bed. One long finger stroked her hand, and he bit his lip, ignoring the guilt that was pressing down upon him.

For a second, there seemed to be a infinitesimal pause, then Virginia sighed. He stared for a second. Leaning down, he positioned his ear just near her mouth, listening intently. He shot bolt upright; her breathing pattern had changed, had grown less restive and more _alive_. Virginia was _alive_! He let out a cry of triumph, and the sound jerked the sleeping girl awake. 

Joy rushed through him, engulfing him so completely that is washed away the guilt and pain of the last few weeks. He leant over next to her, kissing her gently, his hands running up and down her throat, hesitating at her pulse, reassuring himself that she was there. She was alive. 

Her hands came up, hands resting on his chest, and he knew, he just _knew_ that she was going to kiss him back. Any second, she would... Her hands shoved at him. Hit him. Her fingernails sank into his chest and her legs were kicking out, trying to find something, _anything_ to hit. He let got of her and sat back, his face a confused mask.

"Oh God, Malfoy," she sobbed. "Oh, God, please don't hurt me. Please." Tears were running down her cheeks, and Draco felt himself turn to stone. The girl was staring up at him with pure terror, not the scorn or humour that resided in Virginia's eyes.

_"Ginny?"_ Draco asked, thunderstruck. Throughout the entire ordeal, he had never, ever thought about Ginny, the original inhabitant of the body. He felt all his joy wash away again, to be replaced by a bleak despair. Virginia had told him that if Ginny were present, then Virginia would be gone...because Ginny had voluntarily become dormant. 

Ginny was sobbing with fear, her breath coming in short and fast gasps. Draco knew it wouldn't be long before Madame Pomfrey would burst in. He had to shut her up now. He clamped a hand over her mouth. "Listen to me," he whispered. "I won't hurt you. I just want to explain something. If I let you go, do you promise on your status as a witch not to scream?"

She nodded slowly, eyes wide. Draco could felt her hot tears dripping down onto his hand, and all he wanted to do was draw her into his arms and comfort her. He slowly removed his hand, staring into her baby-doe brown eyes. He couldn't see it. When it had been Adaline, he could see the difference, but now? He couldn't say that it wasn't Virginia. 

And that killed him. 

"I'm a friend of Virginia's. I...I need to know. Is she there?" He was more that a friend, dammit. He loved her. 

She took a long time before speaking, and then her eyes were wide with fear. "I'm sorry Draco," she whispered, hot tears ones again spilling down her face, this time with loss. "She's not here. No one is here but me."

He nodded slowly, strangely calm despite his inner emotions. "Thank you, Ginny." 

He walked out, meeting Madame Pomfrey along the way. "She's awake," he said in a slightly shaking voice. 

"Are you okay, Mr. Malfoy?" 

Without answering, he turned and walked out. 

**

.

**

She continued life as if nothing had happened. After two weeks of exhausting tests, Madame Pomfrey allowed Ginny to leave the Hospital Wing and return to her Gryffindor quarters. She did, reluctantly, unready to face the barrage of questions and negative attention that was given to her by her housemates. 

Two days later, she arranged a meeting that lunchtime with Professor McGonagall, to discuss her career options and her life at the present moment. 

Professor McGonagall looked at her sternly, peering over her glasses at the youngest Weasley. "I understand that you wish to discuss something with me, Miss Weasley?"

Ginny nodded slowly, almost wishing that she were back in the dark place. She didn't like it. She didn't like the attention that she got from the other students, didn't like the way they made her felt like she had done something wrong. She didn't like apologising for Virginia's actions, and she didn't like the nasty looks she got from the Seventh Year Gryffindors during Potions. She no longer struggled in Potions, true; it seemed the Virginia's memory had somehow become hers, because she understood everything Snape was talking about. However, generally, Ginny just wanted to be left alone by the outside world, to try to come to grips with the loss of Virginia. 

"Yes, Professor. I no longer feel capable of continuing with Seventh Year Potions, and as such feel it would be wise of me to remove myself from the class." She'd rehearsed that line for half an hour, and it came out so smoothly. She'd never been able to lie before now. Perhaps Virginia had rubbed off on her. 

Professor McGonagall set down her pen and took off her glasses. "I must ask, Miss Weasley, if perhaps there is not another reason for wishing to leave Professor Snape's Potion's class. Recent rumours seem to have had a large amount to do with your relationship with a certain Slytherin, and I wonder if perhaps that is the reason for your lack of self-confidence?"

A blush flamed up through Ginny's cheeks, and she knew by the heat on her chest it had run down there, too. For a second she cursed her complexion, but at least her clothes covered her blush. "No Professor," she replied with a calm that belied her inner turmoil. How many people knew? "I simply feel that it would be best for me to continue in a class with my fellow year-mates." 

McGonagall looked at her sternly. "Very well, Miss Weasley. I shall see to the arrangements."

Ginny nodded and made her way to the Great Hall, sitting down next to the Trio. Two pairs of Slytherin eyes watched her. One with venom, the other with grief. Ginny glanced up at them both, uncomfortably aware of their stares. A second later, she bit her lip and her eyes returned to her plate. She picked up her fork and started to _smoosh_ her peas with her fork in a familiar gesture that made Draco ache with pain.

Draco watched as Blaise's face tightened with anger. He sighed slightly. Draco hadn't been the only one watching Ginny the past few days. Blaise had too, only with each passing day, Blaise's anger got more intense. He and Draco hadn't spoken about it – rarely spoke about anything anymore. The entire ordeal with Virginia had severed their friendship more resolutely than if a huge knife had sliced it through the middle. As such, Draco was completely in the dark as to why Blaise was so angry.

Draco had been watching her, though. He'd watched her eat, watched her during Potions when she shied away from his touch and withered under the glare from the Gryffindors. He'd memorised the way she spoke – on the rare occasions that she did. And the entire time, he had to remind himself that it wasn't Virginia, that Virginia was gone. 

She moved just like Virginia. Her mannerisms, while admittedly a lot more subdued than Virginia's, were almost identical in type and expression. Sometimes he forgot who she really was. Sometimes in Potions he started to touch her hand in affection, or to tease her like he used to. And then he'd remember and pull himself back, devastatingly aware of just how much he had lost.

He wasn't the only one contemplating their loss. Blaise sat next to him, a frown sculpting itself into his face. He'd been watching Ginny for the past two days. Before that she'd been in the Hospital Wing. He, however, had no difficulty differentiating between the two, and the way Ginny acted had made him angry.

What made him angrier was that Draco was a complete wreck, and it was all Miss Weasley's fault.

Speaking of whom...Blaise watched as Draco abruptly pushed out his chair and left the Great Hall. Concerned, but not willing to try to face Draco's vengeful emotions – Draco hated being emotional, and tended to lash out when he was – Blaise simply let him walk away. He returned his gaze to the smallest Weasley.

Once again she looked up at him. Her eyes were pleading with him; his were implacable. She was the first to break the connection; her long lashes slowly sinking to cover her eyes in the time-honoured defensive expression. 

God, how much Blaise hated her meek, submissive attitude. She was nothing like Virginia. Virginia was strong and wilful; she took what she wanted and gave as good as she got. She was feminine and relied on people – trusted them with her problems and loved them unconditionally. She was harsh and fair, and she loved to rile others. Ginny was weak and passive; never leaning on anyone, never trusting them. She shied away from everyone – including her family – and she never fully gave herself in fear she would be hurt. She liked to remain passive, hated arguments, and couldn't stand criticism. They were as different as night and day, and at the same time he still held some affection for her. He hated her even more for that. 

Angry with himself, Blaise left the Great Hall with long, stalking strides. He was going to talk to Draco, going to get them both some sort of closure. And as for Draco's tendency to lash out when he was feeling vulnerable? Well, Blaise was in the mood for a fight.

He encountered no one on his walk back to the Slytherin rooms. What he found when he got there, however, was incredibly surprising. The common room looked like a bomb had hit it. And in the centre of the debris sat Draco, his face in his hands, shoulders hunched and his back rocking from repressed tears. 

Immediately, Blaise's anger left. He sat next to Draco and took him in his arms as if he were a child. _Fuck the macho rules_, Blaise barked inside his mind. Cradling him gently, Blaise started whispering useless phrases as if they really meant something. The idiocy didn't matter, though. It was the tone that mattered to Draco. 

Dear God, Blaise had never seen Draco so utterly...was there even a word for the depth of emotion Draco was feeling? 

Still crying, the blonde boy whispered to Blaise in a wretched tone; confessed the deepest pain within his heart. "I still love her, Blaise. She's gone, and I still love her!"

Heart almost breaking, Blaise took in the proud boy that had finally succumbed to grief. Then Draco looked Blaise in the eye, and the despair there was terrifying.

* * *

**Author's Note:** This chapter was really hard for me to write. That's pretty much all I have to say for this chapter. Props to Nicole, my beta reader, for reassuring me that this wasn't a terrible chapter. I actually came up with the title this time. And thanks to the readers, especially those that review. Your input is wonderful.


	18. Breaking Through Illusions

**Title:** The Myth of Innocence  
**Author:** Catalina Royce  
**Disclaimer:** These stories are based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
**Rating:** R

**

Breaking Through Illusions

**

Blaise consoled Draco as well as he could, and finally let Pansy and Millicent take Draco to his bed. They drugged him with a hefty dose of Dreamless Sleep Potion in the hope that a good nights (or day's, rather) sleep would cure Draco's depression.

A restless energy filled Blaise. He skipped his classes in favour of prowling the halls, using the Invisibility potion that Virginia made when she was still _theirs_. The energy inside him grew. It was vicious, unrelenting. He knew if he stopped he wouldn't be able to control himself or his magic. Blaise knew that this restlessness was caused by worry for Draco. Somewhere in there, though, there was also anger. A deep, almost hidden anger directed toward one person alone; Ginny Weasley.

Despite it, he didn't want to hurt her. He knew how much Virginia had loved her. He understood why Virginia had been the one to leave instead of Ginny. But he hated the way Ginny seemed to have gone back to her life, completely unchanged by the events that had occurred. Everyone who had merely spoken to Virginia had been changed in some way. To Blaise, his changes felt irrevocable. And yet, the person who knew Virginia better than anyone else, who had _lived_ in the same body, went about life as usual.

Blaise had had a long time to adjust to the death of Virginia. Unlike Draco, he had never believed that she would wake up. He'd watched his little sister die; had seen her fall out of a tree at their estate and snap her neck. He had been the one to rush over to her. He'd seen the blank eyes, the lack of possession in the body. When Gypsy had died, Blaise had argued and bartered. He'd screamed with his mother, prayed to any god he could remember, promising them everything if only they'd bring his baby sister back.

No, Blaise had never entertained the hope the Virginia was still alive. He'd seen the absence of her from the first moment he'd walked in the door. Potter holding what had looked like a chicken, Granger holding what was obviously a spell book. He'd heard Draco's fears of Tom Riddle, knew that the Trio and Draco had been tense in the days leading up the spell. And yet, he hadn't thought that Draco would honestly put Virginia in jeopardy. He'd known, and he'd had time to get over his grief.

But there was still that lingering anger, and that ever-mounting energy. So involved was he in his thoughts, Blaise didn't realise there was someone coming toward him until she ran into him. The force snapped him out of his invisibility. He lifted her quickly as she stumbled. She'd been moving at a brisk pace and had been stopped dead in her tracks. Her hair was mussed from the collision, but otherwise the red locks gleamed with health and vitality. She looked at him, completely helpless in his grasp. He noticed how calm her brown eyes were, even then. Her slight form was shaking from cold, but he could feel the heat of her skin burning through her clothes. Another wave of anger swamped him before he tamped it down.

"Are you hurt?"

She shook her head slowly. For a second Blaise stared at her. As he set her back on the floor, he noticed how immaculate her robes were, even if they were old. She seemed perfectly groomed. A great contrast between that of Draco's rumpled clothes.

She thanked him quietly, stepped around him and started down the hall. Her head was bent, and she seemed almost to want to lean on the walls as she walked; she was so close to them. Another burst of anger surged through him, and he raced after her, grabbing her arm and spinning her around. Nearby was an unused classroom, and he pulled open the door and pushed her inside.

Startled but not hurt, she watched him with some apprehension.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" Definitely not what she had expected, Blaise deduced with a nasty amusement. She took a step back and he could have killed her.

With a slightly shaky voice, she replied, "I didn't do anything, I swear."

"That's the whole point! You haven't done a thing since Virginia died! Oh, yes, I know about Virginia," he said darkly. "You just carry on like nothing's happened!"

Her silence seemed to scream.

Blaise – knowing that Virginia was the feisty one, _not_ Ginny – took no heed of what (on Virginia) would have been a warning. "Nothing Virginia's ever done has rubbed off on you! She _died_ so you could live, and here you are going back to the little _doormat_ that you used to be!" Odd how as his anger seemed to be decreasing, the tension in the room seemed to be increasing. For a second Blaise dwelled on that, but there was more he needed to say. "I've seen you during lunch times, bowing and scraping to that family of yours. To the trio. God," he sneered, "While Draco's sitting there almost suicidal because of Virginia's death, you're busy falling in love with Potter again. You've probably thrown yourself at him again and-" Somehow Blaise seemed to realise that he'd gone too far, stopping himself.

The desk that Ginny was leaning on shattered. She took no heed, her tense muscles seeming to be all the support she needed. She was so nonchalant, it seemed almost like she were leaning on an invisible desk. She kept one arm braced behind her. Blaise looked at the sight with some wonderment, before turning his attention to Ginny.

Almost unable to believe that he'd said those things to her, she spoke in a clipped, controlled voice. "While it is my understanding that you were close to Virginia, you must understand that I am not her. Therefore, next time you feel the need to speak to me, you will do so in polite terms, or I will hex you into next century. My relationship – or lack thereof – with Harry James Potter is none of your business whatsoever, Mr. Zabini. And as for Mister Malfoy, _I_ was not the one who was stupid enough to get involved with him in the first place." Ginny sneered slightly. "Virginia always was a stupid bitch." Shocked that she'd said that about the soul that she'd loved (and yes, sometimes hated) so much, Ginny stared with wide eyes at Blaise.

"I didn't mean that," she whispered. She honestly hadn't. Virginia had always been the more intelligent of the two of them. She'd always been able to come up with solutions to their problems, always known when to speak and when to be silent...obviously something that Ginny still hadn't.

He sneered at her. "You aren't fit to lick her boots. At least _she_ wasn't afraid to be somebody. _You_ will end up a housewife with twenty thousand kids reminiscing about your school years and deluding yourself of how far you _could_ have gone." He shot her another scathing glance and swept out of the room.

She watched him leave, once again feeling the essence of her life slowly crumbling around her, like she had so often before she'd let Virginia take over. Shivering slightly in a sudden chill, Ginny wrapped her cloak closer around her.

**

.

**

An hour after his confrontation with Ginny, Blaise had spoken to the other members in Draco's 'group of renegades' and they'd set up a watch. Scared shitless about what Draco might do were he left alone, Blaise ordered them to keep an eye on him around the clock.

Draco finally protested. He'd slowly pulled himself together, although, even now, he was only a shadow of his former self. Much more subdued than he had been, he once again took control of his group.

He'd noticed that Ginny had left the potions class; even in his dazed state it was hard not to realize Blaise'd been without a partner in Potions. However, apart from that quick thought, Draco barely knew she existed anymore. If she had been an intrusive presence, then perhaps he may not have been able to accept Virginia's death. But as it was, he rarely thought of Ginny, and saw her even less. Slowly but surely, she drifted from his mind.

It came as a shock, a fortnight later, to realise that he hadn't thought of Virginia for three days. Appalled, Draco asked himself how he could forget her, when Ginny attended the same school as he did. For the next day, Draco looked everywhere he could to see a glimpse of Ginny. It was only on the second day that he saw her, and the sight was a great shock to him. She barely seemed to exist. She no longer seemed to have friends; was that different to before Virginia took over? He couldn't remember, he'd never taken much notice of her. She seemed to withdraw more and more with every day that passed. And even when Draco knew she was afraid of him, he couldn't help but worry. She had to be feeling the same sort of loss as he and Blaise. But she had no one to lean on, unless she'd confided in her family.

She was sitting alone at breakfast that day, her cheeks slightly pinched. Her lower lip jutted out into a little pout. Her skin was sallow where it had once been glowing, and there were dark rings underneath her eyes. As he watched, she wrapped her now-ever-present cloak tighter around her. Even from here he could see the sheen of sweat on her forehead. Her hand was shaking as she lifted up her spoon to sip from the hot soup that had been served.

Concerned, but not overly worried, he watched her eat her breakfast, and left the hall just before she finished.

He was back again for dinner, watching her closely. She'd chosen sausages and mashed potatoes for dinner. Just before she began to eat, she flicked her hair back off her face. He knew that Virginia would have pulled her hair back and secured it there so that it wouldn't be in her way. He kept watching her, and she glanced at him with a timid disbelief, and then continued ignoring him.

She left just a couple of minutes later, having eaten little.

Turning to Blaise, he said in a quiet voice: "You don't need to follow me around anymore. I'm okay."

"Are you sure?"

"That I'm okay? Yes. But I'm not too sure about her." He inclined his head toward Ginny.

Blaise scoffed. Draco scowled. "What?"

When Blaise spoke, his voice was bitter. "I've had a few encounters with Miss Weasley. Believe me, she's _fine_."

_Fine, eh_? Draco thought as she closed her eyes slowly. She looked tired. Stressed, perhaps. Nervous? Why should she be nervous, though? It wasn't as if he and Blaise were going to say anything to anyone about Ginny and Virginia. Unless Blaise had said something to her..._he_ honestly seemed to hate Ginny.

Frowning, Draco subsided once more, leaving Blaise to think he agreed with him.

**

.

**

He next saw her two days later; a Friday. Not surprising, as he'd deliberately sought her out. She seemed even more nervous than she had at breakfast on the Wednesday. She was sitting propped up on a wall, her legs splayed awkwardly over the floor. It took him a minute to realise that she'd not sat there out of choice. Her legs had simply given out on her.

Draco dropped down beside her. It seemed to take so much effort for her to even drag her gaze to him, and when she realised who he was she didn't even react. His hand cupped her cheek and alarm flared in his gaze; she was boiling hot. "Are you ill?" He asked with concern.

"No, Malfoy," she croaked. "I just happen to like sitting in corridors during the middle of the day."

He smiled. Actually smiled; something he hadn't done since he lost Virginia. But she was so ridiculous, sitting in the middle of the corridor, barely able to lift her head, and yet still snapping out sarcastic comments. Perhaps there was more to her than Ginny-Good-Girl. He hefted her into his arms and stood up. Awkward to be sure, but there wasn't much else to do.

He realised that if most men _really_ did this, then they'd all have very sore backs. Ginny was an almost-dead weight in his arms, and he strained to keep holding her. If she'd been strong enough to use her muscles it wouldn't have been so bad – would probably have been enjoyable, in fact. Even now, with his arms aching, he loved feeling like he was protecting someone, loved feeling that he was needed. He hefted her higher and she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Where are we going?" She sighed.

"To the infirmary." He didn't look down at her, busy watching for any signs of help...or hindrance. He wasn't entirely sure that he wanted help. To be perfectly honest.

"No."

"No what?"

She explained in a surprisingly forceful voice. "No, I am not going to the infirmary. I have had enough of hospitals to last me a lifetime. In six years, I have been landed twice for serious illnesses, and I'm not going back there again. All I need is some Pepper Up Potion. If I can have some of that, I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?" He didn't believe her. He wasn't stupid. If it got any worse, he'd take her to Madame Pomfrey. If she insisted that he didn't, he'd take her to the Gryffindors instead and let them deal with her. But a Pepper Up Potion wasn't a bad idea. He decided to accommodate her, just for once.

He'd go to Crabbe; Crabbe always had most medicines. A bloody hypochondriac, was Crabbe. It was such a silly weakness for someone so hulking, but there it was.

"Okay." He set her in a conclave behind a tapestry, with a sort of window seat attached. Not that there was a window, but it was a place to sit. "Wait here. I'll be back soon."

**

.

**

It took him no time at all to return to the conclave with the Pepper Up Potion in his hands. He smiled when he saw Ginny sitting there; somewhere between the second floor and the dungeons he'd realised that it probably wasn't wise to leave her by herself. She seemed slightly better, oddly enough. More coherent, at least. He was so relieved at her sudden perk up that he frowned. Why should he care, anyway?

It wasn't something he wanted to dwell on.

He measured out the potion and gave it to Ginny. Within seconds of sipping at it, her ears started smoking. She relaxed slightly. "Thanks, Malfoy." Her hectic flush seemed to calm a bit, and she actually smiled at him.

_Malfoy. _

He frowned. He didn't want to hear that, not from her.

She seemed to realise it too because her face suddenly closed up. "I'm not her." She said shortly.

"What?"

"I said I'm not her, Malfoy. I saw that wistful look, as if you wanted something really badly." She laughed shortly. "And Merlin knows that look wouldn't be for me." He wasn't sure how to respond, but was saved the task when she continued. "I am not Virginia. I am Ginny Weasley. Ginevra Weasley, if you want to get down to it." _Ginevra? He'd always just assumed that Ginny was short for Virginia. Where the hell did Virginia come from, then?_ She shook her head. "And I am sick of paying for things I did not do. It was not me who got involved with you, it was not me who stuffed up everyone's life, it was not me who tried to become a death eater or who shamed my family by living with the Slytherins." She buried her head in her hands. She looked like she was crying.

Draco panicked. "Oh, God, Weasley, are you crying?"

She slowly raised her head to look at him. Her eyes were completely dry. "No, Malfoy, I am not crying. I am simply contemplating my circumstances."

He nodded. An awkward silence fell over them, and then Draco sat next to her, moving her legs so he could sit down. He returned her legs to their former position, although they were now across his lap. Now why had he done that? "My circumstances aren't much better, you know."

Seemed to cheer her up a bit, really. A good sign.

"Really?"

"Oh, yeah," he sighed. "First of all, I've lost all respect from my housemates. _And_ my reputation is caput. The big, bad Draco Malfoy being dumped by little Ginny Weasley, and then completely falling apart is the biggest news for months. Of course, you and I and Blaise know that I wasn't _dumped_, that she died," -- it was amazingly easy to talk about Virginia's death in such light terms -- "but the rest of the world doesn't. I'm living with a hypochondriac, a vicious lout who snores, and someone who worries over me day and night like a mother hen. If that isn't enough, I think my hair is thinning!" He pointed to his head "Do you think it is? It isn't as lush as it used to be." He looked at her. She was smiling. Weakly smiling, but that was probably more her having the flu than not being amused. He was glad she was amused. He didn't like it when she was upset.

_Now why did he think that? _

Ginny wasn't anything to him. He didn't know anything about her. He hadn't spoken to her before now. And within seconds of speaking to her, he had realised that she was nothing like Virginia. Virginia was loud lightening storms; exhilarating, entrancing. Ginny was...she was like soft English rain. Quiet, understated, but with enough punch when she wanted it.

The silence had stretched out unbearably. Draco patted her shin and stood up. "Come on," he said. "We'll go back to your Common Room. You won't even have to worry about passwords; I'm sure you can get them changed." After a pause, she nodded.

He lifted her into his arms and followed her directions to the Gryffindor quarters. When they reached the Fat Lady, Ginny muttered the password in an undertone; so quietly Draco didn't even catch it. It was the correct one though, as the Fat Lady swung open, and Draco climbed through. He was surprise by the common room; it was much more spacious than theirs. Red and gold were streaked liberally throughout the room, and there was a nice-looking feinting couch in front of the fire. He placed her there and stoked the fire, grabbing a nearby cover and draping it over her. He gave a little smile. "Goodnight, Weasley."

"Night Malfoy."

**

.

**

Draco didn't see her for a few days after that. He assumed she was recovering, but he didn't bother to check up on her; it was best for both of them if they cut connections as much as possible. They weren't alike, really. They had nothing in common except Virginia, and she was gone forever.

If she needed help though, then he'd be there. A knight in armour, perhaps. He liked the thought.

He caught a glimpse of her turning a corridor that afternoon. It was so tempting to chase after her to make sure that she was okay, but he restrained himself. If she'd wanted to talk to him, to thank him, then she'd have done so, surely. But she hadn't. So he turned around and took a different path to Potions.

He avoided talking to Blaise, though. Blaise was too intuitive; he'd know immediately that something was up. And Draco didn't want to talk about that 'something'. Not yet, not when the image of a redhead was imprinted on his brain. An image of a redhead completely helpless, yet still trusting him implicitly. And he still didn't know what that 'something' meant.

But at the very least, he wanted to get to know the person who had been there before Virginia; who knew Virginia just as well as she knew herself.

He wanted to find the girl behind the myth. The soul behind Virginia. The substance in Virginia's illusion.

**.**

"Have you seen Malfoy lately?"

"Ron," Hermione sighed impatiently, "I try to make it a habit _not_ to look at Malfoy as much as possible." She was frustrated with Ron, disappointed in the relationship that had _almost_ been. And at the same time she kept longing for him to make a move, she kept pushing things firmly back to where they had always been; friendship.

"He's been staring at Ginny. All the time. Like he can't stop. He looks for her everywhere, I swear."

"Well, what do you expect? They broke up, Ron. Everyone has trouble not looking at the person they broke up with. You get so used to staring at them and then you can't because you've broken up." She sounded completely exasperated.

"_You_ don't seem to have trouble."

_That_ made her pause. "What?"

Ron's ears turned red, but her persevered. "I said, you don't seem to have any trouble."

"Ron, I never broke up with anyone…except perhaps Viktor, but he lives a couple of countries away, so it wasn't a problem." His hair was all mussed up, she noticed. It looked quite adorable on him, really.

He blushed. "I meant...with us. And the non us. You never seem to have any problems not looking at me."

Did this mean what she hoped it meant? "How would you know? You've never been looking at me, either, Ron."

If it were possible he went even redder. "Look, Hermione. I don't really know how to do this, and I can't do that mushy stuff yet...I think you'll have to teach me that, but." He took a deep breath and looked petrified. "I like you Hermione. And I want to go out with you...Will you go out with me?"

A huge smile lit up her face, and she leaned forward and kissed him. When she pulled away he looked shocked. "What," she asked with a very un-Hermione-like giggle. "You thought I'd say no?"

**

.

**

"Do you mind if I sit here?"

_The futhark is an ancient Norse Rune script, used in mind..._

The voice intruded on Ginny's concentration. With frustration she crossed out the 'mind' she'd accidentally written and muttered her reply. "Do you see my name on the table?" A rhetorical question, of course. "Then you're obviously free to sit here."

The person sat down. She ignored him and concentrated on writing her Ancient Runes essay. It was a tricky one. A roll of parchment to be written on the origin of the futhark and its uses in magic.

She nibbled on her lip as she considered what to write. _The futhark is an ancient Norse Script; used is both magic and life. The name futhark is derived from the first letters in its system; f u th a r and k. However, where our alphabet system is begun by abcd – sounds that have no meaning separately – the futhark is begun by fehu, uruz and þurisaz, which mean 'cattle' 'aurochs' and 'giants' respectively._ Yes, that sounded good. She wrote it down quickly so she wouldn't forget it, then looked up at her companion.

Not by a glance or inflection did she betray her surprise at Draco Malfoy's appearance. "Yes?" It was then she realized that he wasn't looking at her, or even paying her any attention. He was sitting in his chair writing what seemed to be an essay for transfiguration. He didn't answer her. Slightly confused, she returned to her essay. Where was she? _...and 'giants' respectively. The futhark is the base of all runes, and therefore its uses in magic are extensive. The runes can be inscribed on talismans, or any other surface. The intriguing thing about the futhark and its magic properties is that just writing something is a spell on its own.._

No, that didn't sound right at all. She checked her textbook, The Rune Journey, and tried to figure out how to explain that concept.

It was impossible, she decided. The concept confused _her_, so how was she supposed to explain that simply writing a word gave power to that word? She grinned as she realised that she'd just answered her own question. She jotted that down and looked up again at Malfoy.

What was he doing here? She hadn't even seen him since he'd helped her when she had her flu...which Madame Pomfrey had been able to cure in a second. Showed how much stubbornness would do, she thought wryly.

She needed to break the silence.

"Thank you for helping me. The other day, I mean." He didn't answer for a long time. She was about to say something else when he replied.

"That's okay."

Silence. She looked down at her parchment for a long while staring blindly at the essay. She didn't understand why he was sitting there. Why he didn't say anything.

"Do you need some help?"

She looked up at him with surprise. "What?"

"You seem to be having trouble. Do you want some help?" He asked.

Unwilling to admit that she hadn't even been thinking of the essay, she nodded. She hadn't thought he'd been paying any attention to her at all. He shuffled his chair closer to her. His head was bent, and his silvery blonde hair shined in the light. She wondered briefly how he managed to have every hair in place, but then sighed at her foolishness and looked at her paper.

He'd finished reading the title; _The Origin of the Futhark and It's Uses In Magic,_ and hard though it obviously was, he'd gleaned the topic. "Right. So, you've defined what the futhark is. All you need to do next is to talk about why people use it in magic. You'll need to talk about rune scripts, and Bindrunes – when you combine two runes to make a new one, sort of like a contraction. If that doesn't bring you up to length, mention something about singing or speaking runes as spells and the futhark's uses in divination."

She nodded and scribbled onto her parchment. It didn't take her long to finish her essay after that. After a few minutes she threw down her quill, sanded and rolled up her parchment, and left.

**

.

**

They both came to the library the next day. They both sat next to each other. Ginny worked on her Charms homework and Draco worked on his Potions essay. At first she felt she should say something to break the silence, then she simply shrugged and ignored him. The hours marched on in silence and when Ginny next looked up from her essay, it was nine o'clock and the rest of the library was deserted. She took a deep breath and stretched. The noise disturbed him, and he looked up at the clock, then packed up his books and left. They hadn't said a word.

**

.

**

"She's not Virginia, Blaise."

Blaise flicked him a scathing glance. "I know that, Draco. I was the one who knew that in the first place. You were the one who had the breakdown over it."

That hurt. "She's different."

"Also something I know, Draco." Blaise sounded so blasé about it all, so bored.

Draco tried again. "She's as strong as her, but in a different way. She's subtler."

"That's nice."

He ran a hand through his white-blonde hair and looked at Blaise in disgust. "I'm worried about her. I think she's unhappy. I think she's lonely. And you could be her best friend, Blaise, you _should_ be. She's even more like Gypsy than Virginia was, but you insist that Ginny is a _bad person_. You say that she's the only one who hasn't been changed by Virginia. Well, how do you know? We didn't know her before Virginia came into her life." He sighed.

A startling revelation had been made to him in his encounters with Ginny. _Ginny was not Virginia_. While there were similarities, sometimes far too close for even him to tell the difference, there were also definite differences. He could tell the two apart, now, and he could accept that Virginia was gone. He'd always feel something for her – would always remember her as his first love. But at the same time, some tiny piece of hope inside him had died when Ginny had awoken from her slumber. And now that was all Virginia was to him; a memory. A lovely, vivid, gorgeous memory. But nonetheless, she was gone. He had to face the truth.

Virginia, as he knew her, was gone. And Draco's life was going to change as a result of that.

"Just talk to her. One on one. Without prejudice. That's all I ask."

For the first time during the conversation, Blaise looked up from his magazine. He narrowed his eyes. "You really want me to do this? You're that worried about her?"

"Yes."

Blaise nodded. "Fine."

**

.

**

Blaise watched for Ginny. He didn't approach her until the weekend. It was an unusually warm, and the sunlight had sent many students outside; Ginny being one of them. She was sitting underneath the beech tree, eyes closed and a little smile playing over her face. She looked so relaxed that Blaise was almost loath to interrupt her, but he had told Draco that he would, and there was no better time.

"Hey."

She looked up at him. "What, come to call me an evil hag again?"

Blaise was shocked to realize how much that must have hurt her, for her to bring it up again. He was immediately contrite. "No, I came to apologise."

"Accepted," she clipped out. "Now leave."

"Come now," he grinned. "Surely your mother taught you better manners than that." He sat down next to her.

The breeze that wafted up from the lake rippled through his hair, and he understood why Ginny would love to sit here. It was so peaceful and quiet. They sat there in comfortable silence for a long time.

"What sort of things do you want to do after Hogwarts?"

She told him. He was drawn into the conversation by the mention of counter-curses and the study and development of defensive spells. They talked to each other, losing track of time. They gave and took and relaxed. When Blaise left (after promising they'd talk again), he shot her an indescribable look and told her quietly; "I can understand why Virginia loved you."

She waited until he was out of sight before she started to cry. And even then, she wasn't sure if it was because she was happy or sad.

**

.

**

It became a sort of tradition for Draco and Ginny to sit with each other in the library. They didn't bother with small talk and they weren't ones to share their deepest thoughts with one who they didn't speak to. Occasionally they'd look up and find the other looking at them. They'd exchanges glances – sometimes it was glares – and continue with their work. If they did speak, they didn't discuss Ginny's blossoming friendship with Blaise, or the problems in their lives, or pressures to conform to their families' standards, it was to comment on the other's stupidity, or to ask for a book. And to insult.

At the same time, though, they started to count time on whether or not the other was there. They couldn't relax until the other was there, couldn't concentrate on their work. In his mind, Draco started calling her Virginia's old nickname, Frecks; the one that hadn't suited Virginia.

It was a Friday when Draco realised just how much he'd grown dependant on Ginny's company. She was late. He checked the clock every few seconds until a half hour had gone by. She wasn't there. Was she coming? She had to be coming. She couldn't just blow him off like that. They had an unspoken agreement, and she'd broken it!

It was ten minutes later when she walked in, looking tired and haggard beyond belief. Draco was so relieved that he decided he'd be nasty today, just to let her know that he didn't care if she didn't come.

"You look like shit, Weasley."

She sneered at him. "And yet I still manage to look better than you."

Her hands curled into what resembled claws and Draco drew in a gasp of mock fear. "Why, the innocent kitten has claws after all."

Ginny was having a horrid day, and she didn't need her sometimes-hero-_usually_-pain-in-the-ass-enemy to make it worse. "I do have claws, and if you aren't careful I'll claw you too."

"What's wrong, Ginny," he taunted, "Potter dumped you? He got drunk and professed his love again and you were stupid enough to fall for it a second time? You should know by now, Ginny. He doesn't want you. _No one_ wants you." He was trying to hurt her, trying to punish her for making him worry. He succeeded, but not in the way he expected.

She flew at him. Her hands were clawed, nails growing longer by the second (_Accidental magic?_ He wondered), and she flung herself at him with all the force her body could muster. They toppled over, Ginny on top, scratching at his face. Draco's caught her wrists in an effort to stop her from scratching out his eyes. His biceps strained against Ginny's absolute fury. She was screaming at him at the top of her voice, and Madame Pince was running over and shouting at them that this was a library and not a Quidditch pitch. Somewhere in there Draco heard Professor McGonagall's voice shouting 'detention' and Madame Pince talking about being banned from the library. He could feel someone trying to lift Ginny off him, but she was resisting and in the minute he'd been distracted his grip had slipped. Ginny gouged a long streak in his left cheek before McGonagall used her magic to lift Ginny off him.

"What's wrong, I hit to close to the truth?" He asked nastily. She lunged at him again, despite the fact that she was hanging five feet in the air.

"That's it!" McGonagall yelled. "Detention! Both of you!" Her face was thunderous. "I cannot believe I just witnessed such an appalling display from senior students!"

**

.

**

They'd been sitting together silently, waiting for McGonagall to come back and give them their punishments. Ginny's nails had been clipped from their claw like state, and they'd been warned that if they went for each other again, their punishments would be 'so much worse'.

"I hope you have to clean the dungeons with a toothbrush," Draco said, with not a little glee. It might not be wise, exactly, to push Ginny like that, but he thought he knew what he was doing. He just had to make sure that he didn't mention Potter's name, or do anything that would set her off further.

She snarled at him. "I hope you have to suck Snape's dick, you fart-headed faggot." She knew it was crass, but it was the best she could come up with in the circumstances.

He grinned. "Fart-headed, eh?" It seemed to relax her a bit. That was good. He didn't want her to lunge at him with what he had to say next. "Look..." he hesitated for a second and ploughed on. "I'm sorry about what I said in the Library. It was out of line."

Ginny felt like she was about to cry. It hadn't been out of line, that was the whole problem. Where he was concerned, _nothing_ was out of line. He knew everything about her, all her deepest secrets. And what was more, she didn't _mind_ him knowing. She even quite liked it. And while the Potter remark had been stupid and completely untrue, it was the comment he'd made afterward that had killed her.

_No one wanted her._

Not even Draco. She, who was almost dependant on his being there, was not needed by him.

And though she didn't really want to humble herself like this, Draco knew all her secrets, understood all her expressions, and she couldn't keep it from him for long anyway. When she spoke, her voice was low and intense. "No, you weren't. It was the truth. Not the Potter bit. The bit after that."

Draco couldn't really remember what he'd said, only that he'd felt a huge surge of triumph when he'd ripped through that calm demeanour. He tried to concentrate, to figure out what exactly what he'd said.

_He doesn't want you. No one wants you._

He shook his head, remorse and grief showing on his face. "That's not true."

"Yeah, it is."

"Look, Ginny. I just said that because..." _Well, she'd bared her soul to him, he should at least do the same, right? _"Because you were late. And I was upset, because I can't concentrate without you being there anymore, and you don't seem to care."

She froze.

"We've both lost someone we've loved. And we can't tell anyone about it, because they'd put you in the hospital. I know what you're going to say. You aren't Virginia. But even now, when I know you aren't _her_, I still want _you_. So do you think, perhaps, we might..give it a go?"

She took a deep breath. And another. This was what she wanted, wasn't it? She'd been late because she'd been talking to Blaise, telling him that she liked Draco _like that_, and Blaise had said nothing either way. He'd only commented that he'd support her either way, but that Draco might not ever be able to get over Virginia.

Lately it had been almost impossible for her to sit in the same room as him, to watch him sitting in the library, all disheveled, with his shirt hanging out, and not think about what it would be like if she weren't with him. She'd longed to run her hands through his hair, to be able to touch that flawless skin. And wasn't this what he was asking her? Wasn't his question giving her permission to do so?

But he was already turning away, his face closing in disappointment and rejection. Her hand shot out quickly and grabbed his sleeve. He looked down at her in surprise. She was on tiptoe, and he was drawing ever nearer. She could feel the heat of his skin through his school shirt. 

Their lips met, his warm and confident, hers slightly unsure but game to follow his lead. His arms came around her and she could feel herself melt. Her knees turned to water and she made a soft noise in the back of her throat.

She drew away and looked at him. He was all arrogance and satisfaction. His hair was mussed – _when had she done that?_ – and his eyes were a stormy grey.

"We might try." She whispered. "We might try."

_Finis._

* * *

**Author's Note:** So, it's over! Thank you all so much for continuing this fic with me, for putting up with delays and excuses and rewrites and Lord knows what else. You are all so wonderful and I appreciate your input, advice and reviews so much! 

I re-wrote this about 5 times before I ended up with something I actually like. [Thus the reason for the delay.] Anyway, I absolutely have to thank the Dandy Warhols, because it was their song We Used To Be Friends [or, more specifically, the line "But I haven't thought of you lately at all"] which finally helped snap the writer's block.

Also, I know that it's recently been confirmed that Ginny's full name is actually "Ginevra", so I sort of slipped the scene in. Just as a little explanation: Virginia named herself that, because it meant 'pure', and she found it ironic that she would be named pure when she was the dark side of Ginny.

**Just Some Specific Thank You's:** Firstly, to Nicole, my beta reader. You have done an absolutely fantastic job and I don't know how I could have survived without you. To Qiana, for all your input and sarcastic remarks. To Mana (my old beta reader) who faithfully reviewed all of my stories, including the ones that were in Russian! To the people who added me to their favorites/author alerts lists; thank you so much! And to those who reviewed, of course. .

Just thought I'd mention that I **do** have a personal website for all my fanfiction related things. You can find it at **http:quiescence.king-weasley.net** , and everything I write will go there first. There's also a mailing list there, so you can join and find out when the site is up, as well as whatever fan art or manipulations I or my friends make. It'll be where my extra's go; for instance the plot of The Myth of Innocence and the alternate ending [which hasn't yet been written but which I am planning to do, because it was heading that way for a long time, but I changed it, heh.]

Also, there will be a bibliography of sources put up on Quiescence when I return. I've used so many sites during my research, they deserve so much credit. One such site is The Rune Journey, which is a fantastic site.

I'll be taking a month's break after this, not because I want to stop, simply because I'll be travelling abroad and therefore won't have computer access. However, I have more fics planned, and as soon as I get back I plan to write and post them.

Once again, thank you so much for all your work. I'm so glad I've finally finished this, after two years!

Hugs, kisses, and well-wishes.

_Catalina Royce_


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